Both Sides
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Twoshot. 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Pinky McFingers tries to tempt Barney back into crime again. When Barney chooses his new life, Pinky decides to take drastic measures to force him to agree ... measures that will either make or break the group as a team.
1. Chapter 1

**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **Both Sides**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! ThickerThanLove was vital in this story coming together. This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney no longer works for Shredder.**

Barney muttered to himself as he leaned back at his desk after handing back the last of the graded tests. He looked annoyed, and he definitely felt it. More of the class than he had thought had stumbled over the test. It had been a hard one, granted, but he had believed in his students to the point that he had felt that they would succeed for the most part.

"Are you okay, Buddy?" Vincent asked in concern once the last student had left.

"Where did I go wrong, Vincent?" Barney returned. He looked up at his friend and assistant.

"Wrong?" Vincent blinked.

"There's no way I believe all of the students who failed this test didn't study enough," Barney frowned. "The only other explanation is that I didn't teach the subject well enough to begin with."

"Barney, you taught it perfectly well," Vincent insisted. "Maybe some of them didn't study enough and some of them were goofing off. And maybe with some of them, it was just one of those things. You know neuropsychology is a very difficult course."

"Yes, and anyone who takes it has to be prepared for that!" Barney retorted. "But they weren't prepared. What's Mr. Dalton going to say when he hears about this?!" He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "He's been riding us hard lately."

"Barney, you don't think he'll fire us," Vincent exclaimed.

"No, probably not," Barney said. "But we might get a stern warning, considering he was taking a chance to hire someone like me in the first place."

"You're overreacting," Vincent frowned. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at his adopted brother.

"I'm an ex-convict," Barney replied. "One who slipped right back to his criminal ways when he got out of prison and worked for Shredder and Krang."

"And who nearly died saving the city from Shredder and Krang," Vincent said. "The city loves you, Barney. Everything's going to be fine."

"Don't forget Herman J. Mellish," Barney grunted. "He still isn't convinced I didn't rip off his process. Either that or he's figured out mine is better. Either way, he's jealous and angry and he could be a problem."

"It's still better than the life you were leading before," Vincent insisted.

"Oh yeah? Maybe I can offer him something even better than either life."

Both of them jumped a mile at the gruff voice. "Pinky McFingers," Barney exclaimed, stunned. He sat up straight as his former employer walked in.

Vincent was instantly on guard. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Just to give your brother a little friendly advice," Pinky smoothly answered. He turned to Barney. "You can make a much more satisfying living working for me again. I was real impressed with your Gagamagnifier. It wasn't your fault that Turtle messed everything up. I've got some other ideas for you to try out, if you're interested."

Barney frowned. "I've already been given a second chance by the city," he said. "If I go bad again, I'll lose the trust of everyone who believes in me."

" _I_ believe in you," Pinky rejoined. "And it's not like anyone has to know. You'd be doin' this on the Q.T."

" _I_ know," Vincent said flatly. "And if Barney actually agreed, you can be sure I'd tell Baxter and he would involve the Turtles and before you'd know it, you'd have all of Barney's family and friends rallying to bring him back to the right side."

Pinky sighed. "We could talk a lot better if it was just the two of us. Why don't you tell him to wait outside?"

"Vincent does what he pleases," Barney answered. "You yourself acknowledged that we're brothers, and although I don't know how you learned that piece of information, it's true. He's not my computer."

"Okay." Pinky shrugged. "Just remember my offer. Give me a call." He handed Barney a business card. "It sounds like you could use some more secure work."

Barney stared at it. He had said almost all of his life that he didn't care if he worked for criminals. He had followed through on that more than once. And he was trying so hard to live honestly, but it _was_ hard, just as he had known. Pinky had come right at a time when Barney was particularly frustrated. He would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little tempted by an offer to live the easy life again.

Only . . . it wasn't the easy life, was it? He feared going back to prison so much. He really would, if he worked for Pinky again and was caught at it. And worse than that, as he had already said, he would let everyone down. The city trusted him. More importantly, Baxter and Vincent trusted him. He couldn't destroy that. The thought of their faces if he gave in horrified him more than even the thought of a prison cell.

He handed back the business card. "I don't need to give you a call," he said, to Vincent's joy and Pinky's frustration. "I know my answer right now. No."

Pinky took the card back, but didn't looked deterred. "I saw that look in your eyes," he said. "You know what I can offer you, and you liked the idea."

"But not as much as I like having the trust of my loved ones," Barney replied. He looked to Vincent. "And no, my answer wouldn't change if Vincent left the room. I'd still know I'd be letting him and Baxter down."

"What if they weren't an issue at all?" Pinky pressed.

"Still No," Barney insisted. "I'm trying to live an honest life, Mr. McFingers. I hate myself for what I did in the past. I'm not that person anymore. I'm . . ." He paused. "I'm _better_ than that."

Vincent fairly shone with pride.

Pinky's eyes burned. "Have it your way, Professor. But just remember, I don't take No for an answer."

Barney stood. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm warning you," Pinky said.

"I'll keep that in mind," Barney said, his voice dark.

Pinky turned, storming out of the classroom.

Vincent jumped down from the desk. "Barney, that was wonderful!" he exclaimed. "If Raphael could have seen you . . . !"

"It wouldn't take away what I did to Michelangelo." Barney turned to face him. "And I can't deny I honestly was tempted. It's still tempting. I did live good when I worked for McFingers. But money isn't everything. It was never really money that I wanted, of course, but recognition. I thought I'd have that if he took over the city."

"And you could have gone back to that plan now," Vincent said.

"Recognition isn't everything either," Barney said. "But ironically enough, I have that more now that I'm living honestly. And now I don't feel I need it. The hole in my life has been filled; I have the love of the family I chose to make my own. Baxter was always related to me, but I didn't consciously see that as something wonderful until recently. And you . . . you're not related to me, but you're more my family than our parents ever were. I don't want to lose the trust the two of you placed in me. No matter how much my old life calls out to me, my new life matters far more."

"Barney . . ." Vincent smiled. "You've grown up."

"I'm worried about McFingers, though," Barney frowned. "That _was_ a threat."

"What do you think he might do?" Vincent asked, worried now as well.

"He'll try to force my hand," Barney mused. "He'll do something that he thinks will make me work for him." He looked troubled. "I know he's not above kidnapping. He might take you or Baxter as a ransom for my services."

"He won't take me without a fight," Vincent vowed. "And Baxter's tougher than he looks."

"But we should still do everything we can to protect him," Barney said. "He'd better stay over with us tonight."

"That's always great with me, Buddy," Vincent said. "Are you ever going to invite him to live with us all the time?"

Barney paused. "I never thought I'd say this, but now I think we actually might get around to that," he said. "But if or when I suggest that, I want it to be expressly clear that I'm asking because I want him here all the time, not just because there's possible danger for a temporary period."

Vincent smiled. "I like your reasoning."

"I still don't know if we're ready for that yet, though," Barney grunted. "Several months of peace after over forty years of dysfunction surely couldn't really prepare us for that step."

That brought a sigh. "Maybe not, but how will you decide when you _are_ ready?"

"I don't know," Barney admitted. "Maybe I'm afraid to try it . . . afraid that we'll fail to get along under those circumstances and dreading the thought of such a failure. Right now, we know that Baxter can always leave and go back to his apartment if we end up having problems. If he doesn't have anywhere else to go, I don't know how it would work out."

"You haven't even ever talked it out with Baxter to see what he would think," Vincent said.

"I know," Barney said. "Part of me wants to. . . . Maybe I'm also afraid of his answers." He scowled. "Although I can't decide if I'm more afraid of him saying No or saying Yes. It's a huge step, deciding to live together as a family. I don't want to rush into it."

"Of course not," Vincent said. "You've made so much progress already, Buddy, and I'm so proud of you." He paused. "I hope you don't think you don't have the right to ask him."

"In the past I would have," Barney said. "I don't think that's an issue now. I hope. . . . I know Baxter wants to be around me, as amazing as that is. And he wants to be around you."

"And we want to be around him," said Vincent.

Barney nodded. "I think Baxter likes having that apartment, though. I don't know if he'd want to give it up."

"He does like it," Vincent said. "But if he thought you wanted him to live with us, he would be overjoyed."

"He probably would at that," Barney relented. "We'll talk about that later. Right now we need to worry about Pinky McFingers' threat." He headed for the door.

Vincent walked alongside. "Do you think he'll keep bothering you, Barney?"

"I think that if we can possibly catch and arrest him on this round, he'll leave me alone," Barney said. "He's a businessman; he's not bent on revenge."

"Unlike certain others we know," Vincent remarked.

"I think if Shredder can't calm his desires for revenge before long, Krang is going to lay down the law," Barney said. "I never actually thought I'd be a target for Shredder's revenge, but I guess he's finding it more and more humiliating to be trounced by two physically weak men and a living computer."

Vincent laughed. "As if being trounced by four teenage turtles and an old rat wasn't humiliating enough."

Barney had to smirk. "We might all make Shredder look the fool, but he does plenty of that on his own as well. And make no mistake, he _is_ a dangerous and deadly adversary."

"It's just hard to remember that when he's following orders to kidnap two small children and failing miserably," Vincent smirked too.

"At least I think Krang's finally given up on that idea after two more failures," Barney remarked. "But he must have something else cruel in mind for the next time."

"I hate to think what it might be." Vincent was serious now. "The cruel plans have definitely hurt us."

"And now we have McFingers to worry about," Barney said. "If Shredder gets involved at the same time, it's going to be overwhelming."

"Let's hope he doesn't," Vincent said.

Barney pushed the door open and stepped into the cloudy afternoon. "One cynical thing I've learned is that when it rains, it pours," he said matter-of-factly.

"And it looks like it's about to rain now," Vincent remarked.

"If only that would be the only kind of rain," Barney grunted.

xxxx

Baxter was having dinner with the Turtles and Splinter that night. They sat around the kitchen table, eating and talking and enjoying each other's company. With so many hectic things happening lately, there hadn't been a lot of time for dinner get-togethers. They had all missed them.

"Have there been any more of those bizarre robberies where all the energy is drained from both the people and the machines?" Baxter wondered.

"Two more," Michelangelo sighed. "And we still don't know who's doing it! Everybody's so weak they can hardly talk, and when they finally can, they just say it was too dark to see anyone! Maximum bummer, dudes."

"How have you been, Baxter?" Splinter asked.

"Busy," Baxter said. "Mr. Thompson has been working everyone at Channel 6 very hard lately. But he's pleased with the success of our science contest and how good the children have been so far."

"Yeah, it's totally gnarly!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

"I just hope Krang and Tin Head are through with trying to kidnap those Merriweather kids," Raphael said in annoyance.

"They may have given up on that, but what if they have not given up on having the virtual reality device Krang wanted?" Splinter said. "Perhaps Krang will devise a new method to obtain it."

"If he does, he'll be sorry," Raphael vowed.

"How's Barney doing?" Donatello asked.

Baxter looked to him, slightly surprised but touched that he had asked. "He's been very busy as well," he said. "He was preparing a test for his class. . . . I think this was the day he was to hand their papers back."

Splinter gave a knowing nod. "It is both exciting and nerve-wracking to see how one's students do on an important test. Sometimes they can make their teacher proud. Sometimes . . . they require more practice."

The Turtles groaned. "We did well on that last test you sprang on us, Master Splinter," Leonardo said.

"Indeed you did, my students," Splinter said. "It has been a while since any of you did not do well. But this, I believe, was Barney's first test?"

"Yes," Baxter nodded. "I emailed him to ask how things went, but I haven't heard back yet." He frowned. "Maybe that isn't good news."

"We shall see," Splinter said. "The first test naturally does not proceed as smoothly as later tests."

"I wonder if Barney will see it that way," Baxter worried. "He's still so new to trying to live honestly. If the test doesn't go well, it may take down some of his confidence."

"I would be happy to speak with him, if he is troubled," Splinter said.

Baxter smiled. "I'm sure he would appreciate that."

"So how're things at Channel 6?" Michelangelo asked now. "Especially with ol' Vernon?"

"Vernon is coming along very nicely," Baxter said. "He's been a little stressed with the added pressure, but he's warmed up to it well. He's still afraid of dangerous things, but he's also still improving his manner with April and Irma. It's a refreshing change for them, and for Vernon too, really."

Michelangelo's eyes gleamed. "So are we finally on a first-name basis?!"

Baxter paused, blinking in surprise. "Sometimes I find myself doing that lately. . . ."

"That's radical, Dude!" Michelangelo grinned. "Do they reciprocate?"

Baxter regarded his friend in amusement. He couldn't help thinking how Barney would marvel at surfer slang and large words in the same sentence. "Occasionally," he said. "April is the most likely to, while Irma is the least likely. Vernon is somewhere in the middle."

"So there wasn't any big thing that happened?" Raphael said. "It just . . . started?"

"It seems so," Baxter said. "I can't think of any momentous occasion, at least. Although I believe the first time I said it with Vernon was after Rocksteady hit him and he wasn't feeling well."

"Gnarly notion," said Michelangelo.

"I didn't even realize it until after the fact," Baxter said. "It just slipped out. Then that opened the door and I seemed to start sometimes calling the girls by their first names too."

"That's great," Leonardo smiled. "It means you're growing closer to your friends at Channel 6 and they to you."

Baxter nodded. "I like it," he agreed. "I felt so awkward to think of doing it at first, but by now it really does feel more . . . natural. . . ."

"Who knows," Raphael shrugged. "Maybe they kept saying 'Dr. Stockman' because they felt awkward to switch until you did."

"That's possible," Baxter said.

He blinked in surprise as his phone beeped with an incoming email. "Excuse me a minute," he said, and pulled it out to look at it. He had never wanted to be one of those people who checked the phone while spending time with others, but more than once lately he had missed a message coming through when it had been important. He didn't want to make that mistake again.

"Like, what is it?" Michelangelo asked in concern, seeing Baxter's expression shift to confusion and distress.

"It's . . . vague," Baxter frowned. "Barney says that he has reason to believe that Pinky McFingers may try to kidnap me and that once we're done here, he and Vincent will take me back to their place for the night. He'll explain more then."

"Mondo bizarro," Michelangelo proclaimed. "What would Pinky McFingers want with you, Bud?"

"I can't imagine, unless Barney is worried that Pinky may try to force me to work for him," Baxter said.

"I wouldn't put it past that sleaze, that's for sure," Raphael growled.

"Perhaps," Splinter said. "But things are not always as they seem. Instead of imagining up possibilities, we had best wait to hear what Barney has to say."

Baxter silently agreed and typed an "Okay" message to Barney before slipping the phone in his pocket. But he couldn't quite get his mind to settle down and stop going over the possibilities. It was all very mysterious indeed, and fairly unsettling. Baxter didn't look forward to the prospect of dealing with Pinky McFingers at all. And he had to wonder what sort of contact Barney had had with the gangster to come to such a conclusion that Baxter was in danger.

Suddenly his eyes widened. "Oh!" He looked to his friends in shaken distress. "I wonder if Pinky McFingers approached Barney and wanted Barney to work for him again. If Barney said No, maybe McFingers would think that he could force me to work for him instead!"

Everyone looked back.

"Yeah, maybe," Raphael said. "But _would_ Barney say No? He said that he had either outright lived dishonestly or at least had dishonest thoughts for most of his life. If McFingers came to him with a tempting offer, would he really turn it down?" He looked to Splinter. "You said yourself that a leopard doesn't change its spots, Sensei."

Splinter looked both stunned and awkward to be put on the spot. "Well, yes, but that doesn't always apply to people. . . . "

Baxter looked at Raphael with hurt in his eyes. "Raphael, why are you always so determined to think poorly of him? He's trying so hard to be good. He even tried to protect you and quite possibly saved your life!"

"Not to mention nearly getting killed for it," Michelangelo added. "We still don't know how bad he was hurt!"

Leonardo nodded. "Barney has proven himself to be a valuable friend and ally. If I had any lingering doubts about him, I didn't after he saved you, Raphael."

"Me either," Donatello said. "And you know I'm a lot more skeptical of humans in general."

Raphael glared at the table. "But saving me isn't the same as saving one of you," he muttered. "Especially Michelangelo."

"It's still risking his life for somebody," Michelangelo frowned. "Like, does it really matter which one of us it is?"

"To me, yeah, it does," Raphael shot back.

"Well, alright then. What about him tackling me out of the way when Vincent went completely gonzo and started blasting at everyone?" Michelangelo countered.

"That made a difference," Raphael said. "It went a long way in helping me feel a lot better about him."

"But still no soap, huh?" Michelangelo sighed. "Raphael, it's gonna keep being this way. He's gonna keep helping us because he's one of the good guys now. Sooner or latter, you're gonna have to accept that there's no strings attached, no other shoe that's gonna drop."

"Or like Baxter just said, he's _trying_ to be one of the good guys," Raphael shot back. "Well, maybe he'll fail. You know that with, say, an alcoholic, you don't just plop temptation in front of them where they might give in and go back to the bottle. Well, Barney was addicted to crime. You put that temptation in front of him again and who knows what would happen!"

"I wouldn't exactly say that," Baxter frowned. "Barney always said he didn't care what he had to do to get ahead. But he admitted recently that he did care, that his conscience always bothered him when he did something he knew was wrong. He wants to be good, Raphael. And I won't stop believing in him!"

"Yeah, well, I just hope you're not being naive again," Raphael retorted. "You always loved him, even when he didn't deserve it!" He threw down the checkered napkin and got up from the table.

"Raphael!" Splinter sternly called after him.

"Yeah, I know I'm just being the heavy again," Raphael said over his shoulder. "But I just don't want Baxter to get hurt!"

"Like, _you're_ hurting him, Dude," Michelangelo said in frustration. Baxter was staring after Raphael, looking stricken.

"Sometimes life hurts. You've gotta know that it's coming," Raphael said before storming out of the kitchen.

Baxter leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table while digging his fingers into his hair. "Raphael is right," he said quietly. "I suppose I am being naive to trust that Barney will succeed in what he's trying to do. I know he sincerely wants it, but I also know that he has worried himself over whether he'll be able to stick with it."

Michelangelo put an arm around Baxter's shoulders. "Honestly, Baxter, I think what Barney needs right now, maybe more than anything else, is for people to believe in him and love him. You're doing the right thing to give him that trust and love." He hugged his friend. "I'm sure it'll make all the difference in the end."

Baxter tried to smile. "I hope you're right, Michelangelo. I know I don't have any intention of stopping."

"And that's the way it should be," Michelangelo declared. "Heck, if we only loved people when they 'deserved' it, it wouldn't mean much, would it?"

Baxter smiled a bit more. "You make an excellent point, my friend." Michelangelo often surprised him with his insight. This was definitely another of those times. And it was certainly something Baxter agreed with.

"Raphael _is_ worried for you, Baxter, but he should have taken more care with his choice of words," Splinter said. "I will speak with him."

"He can't help how he feels," Baxter said wearily.

"But he and Barney are similar with how they display some of their emotions," Splinter said. "Barney uses anger and frustration to mask many of his true feelings. Raphael may be doing the same thing. I would like to know so I might counsel him."

"Then you should do that," Baxter said. "I just wouldn't want you going to the trouble just on my account. I understand Raphael is worried about me."

"And most likely frustrated with himself that he still has issues with Barney," Splinter said. "He may be saying these things about him to try to justify his feelings in his mind."

"That sounds like Raphael," Leonardo admitted.

Michelangelo sighed. "I just wish we could be one big happy family, you know? All of us, Barney and Vincent, and April and Irma. Heck, maybe even Vernon, if he's coming to like us too."

"Unfortunately, I don't know if he would ever join us," Donatello said. "But Barney and Vincent are definitely trying to."

Baxter nodded. "I long for us to all be united as well. I still hope it's possible. But I don't know what it would take for Raphael to finally be able to let go of his angry feelings towards Barney."

"Do any of us?" Michelangelo frowned.

No one had an answer.

xxxx

Barney seemed both quiet and tense when he and Vincent picked Baxter up. Uneasy, Baxter looked from one to the other as they drove. "What's this all about?" he asked.

"Well, right now it's just a possibility," Vincent said.

"A very plausible possibility," Barney growled. He stared ahead as he drove. "Pinky McFingers came to see me today. He had the gall to come right into our classroom!"

"What did he want?" Baxter wondered.

"For me to go back to his employ, naturally," Barney grunted. "I turned him down, but he threatened me. I'm afraid he might kidnap you to force my hand."

Baxter's eyes widened. "I wouldn't put it past him," he exclaimed. "I thought maybe he would want to kidnap me to force me to work for him."

In the past Barney might have snarled that Baxter was certainly arrogant to believe that about himself. Now he just frowned. "I didn't think of that. That's possible too, actually."

Baxter didn't answer. Instead he focused on the rest of what Barney had previously said. He started to smile. "You really turned him down, Barney? Weren't you tempted at all?"

"Oh, I was tempted," Barney retorted. "I still am. But I couldn't say Yes. I don't want to go back to prison again."

"Of course not," Baxter said.

Silence hung over the car for a long moment. Finally, sighing in resignation, Barney added, "And I didn't want to destroy the trust you and Vincent have in me."

Vincent was pleased. Baxter smiled more. "That's wonderful, Barney. I'm very moved."

Barney shrugged. "Living honestly is hard, just as I knew it would be. I'm even frustrated with it at the moment. But I'm not ready to give up on it yet. Living dishonestly isn't always easy."

"Especially when you have to do things you don't really like deep down," Vincent said.

"Exactly," Barney grunted.

"You can't protect me forever, though," Baxter said. "We both have jobs, which we sorely need to keep."

"I know," Barney growled. "And he might strike when we least suspect it. But I have to do what I can."

"And that means the world to me," Baxter said softly.

"I don't want you to suffer any more for my mistakes than you already have," Barney said.

He was silent for most of the rest of the drive. Baxter and Vincent talked, and tried to engage Barney in conversation, but he had slipped into one of his contemplative modes. Vincent decided it was best to leave him be for the moment; when he went into those states, he didn't generally speak unless he and Vincent were alone.

When they got back to the house, Vincent offered to take Baxter into the laboratory to look around. Grateful for Vincent's thoughtfulness, Barney sighed and slipped into his home office, sinking down at his desk.

He had been there when Pinky McFingers had first come to him with the offer to build something for him that would enable him to clean out the city without risking a murder charge. Barney had been easily tempted in those days; despite his honest work, he wasn't getting very far in his quest to be well-recognized and he told himself he didn't care if he worked for a known criminal. Designing the Gagamagnifier had called on his skills as a neuropsychologist; he knew how the brain worked and what to do to make it find things funnier than it ordinarily would. And he liked that it was relatively harmless. The city would laugh itself silly while it was being robbed blind, but once switched off, there wouldn't be any ill aftereffects.

He laced his fingers and leaned forward, propping himself on them. There were many ways to hurt people. They hadn't been physically harmed, no, but being robbed wasn't any picnic. He and Baxter had never been physically abused in their childhoods, either, but their parents had most assuredly hurt them both.

He hated that part of him was still tempted by Pinky's offer. He was supposed to be good. He had known he might not have much luck succeeding with that, but he had been trying so hard. He hadn't been inclined to travel a criminal path until Pinky had brought it up today. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he had gotten past those feelings. That was foolish, he thought now. No matter how much he wanted to listen to his conscience, it didn't take away years of going through with shady and underhanded and later, criminal acts. How did he fully throw something like that off?

Was it really just as simple as love? He scoffed. It sounded inane. But if his desire to not let Baxter and Vincent down was stronger than his desire to give in, maybe it would actually work.

And of course he abhorred the thought of prison. He should have gone back there after everything he had done, but Baxter's handling of things after Barney's sacrifice at the Dansing Building had ensured that Barney wouldn't have to. Barney didn't want to make all of that be in vain.

He involuntarily shuddered. He tried not to think about it much, but prison had been awful. He certainly hadn't been respected by the other prisoners, and his bad temper had gotten the better of him whenever any of them had called him _Baxter._ They had probably done it on purpose, just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed and slumped down, resting his forehead on his outstretched arm. "Who am I?" he whispered to the room. "Who is Barney Stockman? I stopped knowing long ago. Today I said I was better than to work for Pinky again, but am I? I'm still tempted. I can't see myself going through with it, but . . . to still be tempted . . ."

"Everyone is tempted by something wrong," Baxter said softly from the doorway. "Even Jesus."

Barney jumped a mile. "But He never would have got Himself into a mess like this in the first place," he grunted. "I thought you were looking at the laboratory."

"We did." Baxter came into the room, followed by Vincent.

"I knew you were probably thinking about today and what it meant for you," Vincent said. He perched on the edge of the desk.

Barney looked up at him in bemusement. "I was," he agreed.

"I went through the same questions when I was turned human again," Baxter said. "I couldn't figure out who or what I was for a long time. Pathetically weak? A kicked puppy? A victim?"

"And what did you decide?" Barney wondered.

"I'm a little of all of those," Baxter said, "but so much more, both good and bad." There wasn't another chair in the room, so he sat on the windowsill behind the chair.

Barney looked back at him and glared. "That's not safe."

"We're on the ground floor," Baxter chuckled.

"If you want to sit, take the chair," Barney insisted, standing and pushing it towards Baxter. "I'll just copy Vincent." He leaned on the desk, folding his arms.

Baxter relented and went to the chair.

"How long did it take you to sort out who you are?" Barney asked.

"Sometimes I'm still trying to figure it out," Baxter said honestly. "I think most people ponder on that question all of their lives."

Barney shook his head. "You usually seem like you have it together so well. You've found so much peace in the last few months."

"I have," Baxter said. "And you're right, I've found a certain peace with myself specifically . . . although I still abhor what I did wrong in the past. I doubt I'll ever feel differently about that."

"I know you said before when I asked that it hasn't been as easy for you to redeem yourself as it seems," Barney remarked. "You mentioned all the people you'd hurt that you were still trying to make things up to. But despite all the years of sorrow and pain that turned you bitter and unstable, you haven't seemed to have much trouble with those darker parts of yourself."

"Part of that was the love that was finally shown to me by the Turtles and Splinter after I was turned human again," Baxter said. "Part of it was finally learning that you love me. And the other part . . ." He gazed off into the distance, looking thoughtful. "That was because I had new purposes to put my life towards. April O'Neil arranged for me to obtain my job at Channel 6. And once I realized you love me and how deeply you'd gotten in over your head with Shredder and Krang, I knew I had to save you if it was at all possible. I couldn't let you suffer as I'd suffered."

"So basically you're saying that saving me was part of your redemption?" Barney raised an eyebrow.

"If you want to put it that way, yes," Baxter said softly. "I finally had light in my life. I couldn't leave you to wallow in the darkness. And in trying to save you and learning more and more about who you really were, I believe I was changed even more."

Vincent smiled. "And in trying to save you, he got into your heart, Barney," he said. "You changed too."

"I can't deny that," Barney acknowledged, humbled.

"With Vernon as well," Baxter mused. "I was very arrogant and disgusted with him when we first met. But then I started to see something in him that no one else did. Everyone thought he was so weak and worthless, yet I realized that he had to be stronger than they thought or he would have broken down ages ago. I didn't want to see someone else treated as I'd been treated most of my life. I had to do what I could to help him find his worth . . . and to let others see it."

"And you did, Pal," Vincent said with pride. "You've changed his life. And he in turn has been helpful and valuable on several cases. He's truly friends with April and Irma now, as well as with you."

"So there wasn't ever one single event that redeemed you," Barney realized. "It was an ongoing process."

"It always is," Baxter said. "There's always room for improvement, no matter who you are."

"Then that is likely how it will be for me as well," Barney said. "Always more to learn, to do . . ." He frowned. "But I doubt I could ever be like you, Brother, actually finding someone else to save. I have enough to worry about trying to save myself."

"That's exactly how I felt at first," Baxter said. "Barney, don't you see? That's the whole point. It's in helping others that we find how to help ourselves. I know, you feel that I'm kinder than you, so naturally that works for me. But I didn't see it that way. And I certainly wasn't deliberately trying to find redemption by being helpful. I just wanted to save my brother. Then I wanted to help someone who was being treated as I was. Along the way, I also wanted to help the friends I'd made. It's the same thing for you-you won't set out trying to find someone who needs help, but a situation will find you. Just as it has many times already. You've helped so many times and in so many ways. And honestly, Barney, that has also been what has brought you to this point, not just Vincent and I."

"I didn't think of it like that," Barney said.

"That's true, though," Vincent said. "The more you fought against Shredder and Krang, the more you healed. You really know the principles Baxter is talking about, even though you didn't know you knew them." He smiled. "And you must have found some peace with yourself, Buddy, or you couldn't have told McFingers that you're better than to work for him."

"I'm still stunned that I actually said that," Barney said flatly.

"I'm not," Baxter said, getting out of the chair. "Barney, it's true. You were _always_ better than that. You just couldn't believe it before."

"Can I believe it now, even when part of me likes his offer?" Barney retorted.

Baxter gripped Barney's shoulders. "Yes," he said with finality. "Because now you're acknowledging that it's only part of you that wants it, instead of insisting that you want it whole-heartedly. You know that the other part of you wants to be good."

"But will that part win?" Barney said quietly.

"Only you can answer that, Barney," Vincent said. "But we both believe it."

Baxter nodded. "We believe that . . . and in you." He stepped back.

"And I don't want to let you down," Barney said.

"And that's good," Vincent smiled. "Maybe eventually, you will get to where you don't want to let yourself down either."

"I feel that way somewhat," Barney mused. "Maybe that's why I said I was better than that."

"I think so," Baxter said.

"But I might keep being tempted anyway," Barney said.

"That's alright too," Vincent said. "As Baxter says, no one is exempt from temptation."

Barney sighed. "Just as long as I'm strong enough to resist. I know you both feel I am, but I'm not that confident."

"Then lean on our feelings for a while," Baxter said softly. "Just until you're able to be that confident on your own."

Barney slowly nodded. "I guess that's all I can do for now. Thank you." He looked from Baxter to Vincent. "Both of you."

"You don't have to thank us for caring," Vincent said.

"You both made a conscious decision to do so," Barney said. "Baxter could have turned against me so many times, but he didn't. And you could have remained so repulsed by me as to have refused to make friends with me."

"I was selfish, Barney," Vincent said. "I was so lonely and I couldn't bear to think of going through that again, especially after being with someone again and really meaning something to someone for the first time in my life. I was so desperate for companionship that I was willing to try to be friends with you."

"You could have decided to talk to Krang or Shredder or Bebop or Rocksteady," Barney said. "You didn't want anything to do with them because they treated Baxter rotten without remorse. You told me that because I tried to save his life after making the abominable mistake of hitting him, you were willing to be friends with me."

"I did say that, didn't I," Vincent mused.

"In spite of your loneliness, you weren't willing to do anything that could hurt Baxter or support those who hated him," Barney said.

"I'm so sorry you were left alone again, Vincent," Baxter said quietly. "I have vague memories of that time. I wasn't too upset about the console being blown up at first because I thought you were still with me on that portable computer." Tears glistened in his eyes but didn't fall. "It was only after I was trapped in that dimensional limbo again that I opened it and saw that . . . that you weren't there."

"I was only controlling the portable computer remotely," Vincent said. "When the console blew up, my control was broken. And I was too dazed and hurt to call out to you before you left."

"When I saw you weren't there, I remembered that and I was sure you were dead." Baxter sounded far-away now. "And I lost whatever remaining hope I had. The fly gleefully took over what was left of me." He came back to the present and his eyes were filled with guilt. "Vincent, I doubt I will ever get over how I doubted you when I was restored to sanity. You were there for me in every way you could be, and I said that 'no one' had been there for me!"

"You don't remember much about that time, Baxter," Vincent told him. "Back then you remembered even less. I was still a vague memory, a dream, something you weren't even sure was the way you remembered in your fly-tortured mind."

Baxter nodded. "Even as I started to reconnect with you after discovering you were alive and as I remembered, I don't think I really, fully grasped it until you were with me again when we thought Barney was dead." He shuddered and looked to Barney before continuing. "Actually being with you again brought so many more memories to the surface. I remembered how you took care of me and talked to me. I remember thinking back then that you were . . . more like a brother to me than my brother." Again he looked to Barney, renewed guilt in his eyes.

Barney looked shamed but said, "Vincent was like my brother too. Is it any wonder that he was instrumental in finally bringing us together?"

"It's not a wonder at all," Baxter said fondly. He sighed. "Sometimes I wish I remembered more about the early times we had together."

"I'm just happy that you remembered you loved me, Pal," Vincent said softly. "That's the most important thing to me. Sometimes I do wish you remembered more of our specific times together when it was just the two of us, but at the same time, I don't want you to remember more about a time in your life that was so horrible. You remember the feelings and that's enough."

"I'm glad I remember that much," Baxter said.

"And whether it's necessary or not, I still thank you both for caring," Barney said. "It would have been so easy not to, especially when my personality made me so difficult to love. The fact that I've been able to salvage my life at all is because neither of you gave up on me. You gave me the strength and desire to try."

"You still chose to have that desire, Buddy," Vincent said. "You could have locked it away again, like you did with your conscience over and over. Instead, you wanted to embrace it. Maybe partially because of us, true, but also because you were finally fed-up with Shredder and Krang to the point of feeling that you had to stop working for them and try to live honestly. Let's say we've helped each other and leave it at that."

"Alright," Barney said with a bit of a wry smile.

Baxter looked from him to Vincent. "By the way, you never did answer my question about the test today. I'm guessing it didn't go well?"

"That's a good guess," Barney grunted, "and part of why I've been frustrated with trying to live honestly today. Pinky McFingers picked a good time to come calling."

"Only you still said No," Baxter smiled.

"Yes," Barney agreed. "I still did."

"McFingers isn't convinced yet," Vincent said, "but we'll make sure he gets convinced."

"I hope so," Baxter said. "And I hope it won't take a lot of heartache and pain to do it."

"I'm sure it won't be easy," Barney said. "Pinky McFingers is a stubborn and dangerous man."

"We can be stubborn too," Vincent said. "Especially now that we're a family. McFingers has never tangled with the likes of us before. He won't know what hit him."

Baxter looked on. Part of him found it strange to think of himself as stubborn, since he had folded so many times under pressure and abuse. But he had kept pressing on instead of giving up on life altogether, so perhaps in that way he was stubborn. And he had never turned against Barney when he certainly could have on so many different occasions. His love had been stubborn too.

Barney glanced to him. "What's on your mind, Brother?" he asked.

"I was just pondering on whether I agree with Vincent," Baxter said. "I wasn't sure that I did, where I'm concerned anyway."

"And now?" Vincent prompted. He had definitely picked up on the past tense in Baxter's words.

"Now I think I do," Baxter said. "Yes, we're all stubborn. Especially when we're defending a loved one."

Vincent smiled. "Exactly what I was thinking, old pal."

"Oh, and I need to call Michelangelo," Baxter remembered. "He'll be waiting to hear from me about what you said, Barney. We were all speculating on it after your message came through." He paused. "You don't mind if I tell him, do you?"

"No," Barney shrugged. "Just don't expect it to make a difference with Raphael."

"I can't speak for Michelangelo, but I won't expect that," Baxter said.

xxxx

As Baxter had known, Michelangelo was thrilled to get the call. When he hung up, he turned and looked at Raphael, who had come in and was regarding him with curiosity. "Did you hear any of that, Dude?" he asked.

"I think I caught something of it," Raphael said.

"Barney _was_ approached by Pinky McFingers and he turned him down!" Michelangelo grinned. "I told you!"

Raphael admittedly looked surprised, but still uncertain. "That's . . . that's amazing," he said. "I'm impressed. I didn't expect that of him. But what's he going to do if McFingers keeps pressing? If he kidnaps Baxter or Vincent, what will Barney do then?"

"I don't know, but here's a question for you," Michelangelo returned. "What would you do if it was you in that kind of situation?"

"What?!" Raphael exclaimed.

"Well, just think about it, Raphael," Michelangelo said. "Suppose somebody took me or Leonardo or Donatello to try to force your hand. What would you do?"

Raphael opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I don't know," he said in chagrin. "And I don't want to think about it."

"I'm just saying, if Barney did give in under those circumstances, would he really be so awful?" Michelangelo said quietly.

Raphael looked away. "I can't answer that either," he said gruffly. "But let's just try to keep a close watch on Baxter and Vincent so they won't get nabbed."

"Sounds like a plan to me, Bud," Michelangelo declared.

xxxx

The night passed in relative peace for everyone. Morning found Baxter frowning to himself as he ran a brush through his scarcely tameable hair. He was worried; Barney's concerns certainly had merit. What if Pinky McFingers struck while Baxter was on his way to work? It would be fairly easy to abduct him then.

Barney had similar thoughts. "We'll drop you off at Channel 6 on our way to the university for the morning class," he said gruffly as he leaned into the bedroom.

"You don't have to do that," Baxter said.

"Actually, we do," Barney said flatly, "considering that you don't have your car here."

Baxter chuckled and shook his head. "Alright."

xxxx

As it was a fairly pleasant day, Michelangelo decided to go topside and take a walk. Maybe, he thought, he would let his walk take him to Channel 6 to make sure everything was okay with Baxter.

He certainly wasn't expecting any trouble. When two familiar thugs stepped out of an alley and into his path about halfway to Channel 6, he was both surprised and annoyed. "Hey, what are you creepolas doing out of the slammer?" he frowned.

"Eh, we just thought we'd go a round or two with you," the first one leered.

"You know, to pay you back for the times you and your pals have stopped the Boss from going through with his plans," said the second.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your boss trying to get Barney to work for him again, would it?" Michelangelo retorted while reaching for the nunchucks in his belt.

"Maybe," said the first.

They lunged at the same time. Michelangelo leaped in the air and kicked them both back. When they crashed to the ground and tried to fire at him, he whipped their guns out of their hands courtesy of his nunchucks.

"There!" he exclaimed. "Now what do you say about that, rude dudes?!"

He wasn't expecting a third party to come up from behind and suddenly fire a bizarre and painful beam that surrounded him and bound him in place. He froze against his will, a scream of pain catching in his throat. "What . . . what the heck _is_ this?!" he gasped. He could feel his very energy being drained from his body. When the beam faded, standing was impossible. He crashed to the ground on his plastron, unable to do a thing to brace himself.

"This?" sneered Pinky McFingers from above him. "This is just a little something I call an Energy-Zapper."

Michelangelo struggled to look up at him. "Why?" he choked out. Even saying that much was an extreme effort. It was worse than the times he and the other Turtles had been weakened by Muckman and Joe Eyeball! He was surprised he even had enough energy to breathe.

"Why?" Pinky retorted. "You're gonna be the bait to lure my scientist back into my employ. I need him."

"But . . ." Michelangelo gasped as Pinky's thugs dragged him up on either side. His thoughts were racing in bewildered disbelief. _Why me?! Why not Baxter or Vincent?! They're the ones Barney loves. . . ._

"You're surprised I picked you, eh?" Pinky bent down to look into Michelangelo's bleary eyes. "It'll solve two problems at once. It'll bring the Professor back and it'll get rid of one of the most annoying thorns in my side." He straightened. "Throw him in the trunk."

"Right, Boss."

Michelangelo wanted to fight against Pinky's thugs when they lifted him and started to carry him to the limousine. He tried to fight against them. But his energy had been so severely depleted that the most he could do was to raise his left hand by about six inches. He fell hard and mercilessly into the trunk and the lid was slammed on him, plunging him into darkness.

 _No,_ he screamed in silence. _You can't use me against Barney. You can't! . . . Because he really might give in to save me._

xxxx

Barney and Vincent had arrived at the university and were readying the classroom for the morning class when a confused secretary appeared in the doorway. "Um, excuse me, Dr. Stockman? There's a man to see you in the lobby," she said.

"What?" Barney frowned. "We're teaching in ten minutes!"

"He said it was urgent," she told him. "And he said for you to come alone. He was very insistent on that."

Vincent stepped forward. "I don't like it, Buddy," he worried.

"I don't either," Barney mused. "Tell you what. Stay out of sight, but get close enough that you can hear the conversation. Depending on what's said, act accordingly." He looked to the secretary. "And depending on what's said, we might have to cancel the class for today."

Her eyes widened. "But why?"

"I don't know," Barney growled. He stepped into the hall and headed for the lobby.

Vincent followed him at a safe distance and slipped into the nearest classroom to the lobby, relieved that it was empty. He went to the wall to listen through it.

"I was afraid it was you," came Barney's voice. Dark, cold.

"I told you I wasn't about to give up, Professor." Pinky McFingers-sneering, confident.

"What have you done?!" Barney's voice was starting to rise. He still wasn't very good at controlling his temper, especially in a situation like this.

"Recognize this?"

Vincent wished he had X-Ray vision right then.

"It's . . . one of Michelangelo's wrist bands," Barney said in surprised disbelief. "You took Michelangelo?!" Now the anger was starting to slip into his voice.

"Quiet down, Professor," Pinky scolded. "We don't want the whole campus to hear, do we?"

Vincent could just imagine Barney's smoldering look. "I suppose you want me to come with you."

"That's right! The limo is right outside." The sound of a door opening. "Come now and you can see him. No telling your computer brother or anything like that."

"Fine," Barney snapped.

The door slammed shut and the voices were muffled. Vincent turned away, the lights on the laptop rapidly flashing. Barney had told him to act accordingly, but what should he do? Send a frantic email to Baxter? Follow them?

He ran out of the room and over to the doors. Barney was just getting into the limousine. Vincent pressed himself against the wall, writing out the email to Baxter as he waited for it to drive past. When it did, he rushed outside and over to the Cadillac. Tapping out the code on the number pad got him inside, and from there he was able to take control of the car's computer to start the vehicle. "Hot-wiring for the 21st century," he smirked, pealing out of the parking space.

Two women getting out of a cab shrieked. "That computer is driving a car!" one of them yelped.

Vincent glanced over at them. "Computers control cars anyway," he retorted. "Is it really so strange to see one behind the wheel? Especially in the age of self-driving cars?"

The second woman fainted.

The cabbie shook his head. "So a talking computer's driving a car. Big deal." He rolled his eyes. "Tourists."


	2. Chapter 2

Baxter was typing on the computer in his office, his fingers flying over the keys, when the phone beeped with an arriving message. He grabbed it and clicked. All color drained from his face.

 _Baxter, Pinky McFingers kidnapped Michelangelo! He forced Barney to go with him. They're probably going to McFingers' hideout. I'm following them._

Baxter immediately typed a swift reply.

 _Vincent, be careful! I'll call the Turtles and go with them. They know where it is._

 _Baxter_

As soon as he hit Send, he grabbed the Turtle-Comm and opened it. "Come in, Turtles!" he called, frantic.

"Baxter, what's wrong?" Donatello exclaimed.

"Pinky McFingers abducted Michelangelo!" Baxter cried.

 _"WHAT?!"_ Donatello gasped. "Why would he choose Michelangelo?!"

"I don't know!" Baxter said in anguish. "Vincent just told me about it. McFingers made Barney go with him, probably to his hideout. You know where it is, don't you?"

"We sure do," Donatello said. "I'll get the others and we'll leave right away. April's been there too."

"She has?!" Baxter looked towards the doorway. April would most certainly want to come along. Baxter didn't like to outright encourage it by asking her to come with him now, but then they would get there ahead of the Turtles. Who knew what was going on up there! Time was of the essence.

As if sensing Baxter's thoughts, Donatello said, "Don't try going up with her alone. We'll be there before long and pick you both up."

"Alright," Baxter stammered. He didn't bother to say _hurry_. Of course they would probably break the speed limits to get there fast.

His heart was racing as he hung up. None of them had ever once imagined that McFingers would choose to kidnap a Turtle to force Barney's hand. And of all the Turtles, he had to choose Michelangelo. Of course, it was probably just because Michelangelo had been the one they had found out walking, but it still made Baxter sick with fear. He cared about all the Turtles, but Michelangelo was his closest friend among them. And Michelangelo still had so much faith in people, just as Baxter had years ago. He didn't deserve to be used as a pawn for people's cruelty like this!

And what of Barney in this treacherous scenario? Both Vincent and Baxter suspected that Barney had truly started to care about the Turtles, including Michelangelo. To save him, would he really give in and work for Pinky McFingers?

It was certainly possible.

Baxter clasped and unclasped his hands and whispered a desperate prayer. This seemed an impossible situation. And if McFingers truly won, all of them would lose. Especially Barney.

He got up to find April.

xxxx

Barney wasn't given any information on the drive out of the city and up the steep mountain to Pinky McFingers' mansion. He glowered out the window; he recognized their path all too well. He remembered the last time he had made this journey, how he been so full of greed and anger and hatred and had only cared about making an important invention, no matter who wanted it. On the way back down, he had been in handcuffs. He had dug himself in too deep and that had been his just punishment. But his bitterness had only increased, from there to prison and out again into another mess. Only Vincent had finally managed to cool that raging fury.

"Brings back memories, don't it, Professor?" Pinky cut into his thoughts.

"Bad ones," Barney said.

"Oh, now, we had some good times together, didn't we?" Pinky smirked. "I remember how excited you were about your Gagamagnifier. I put up with all of your quirks and temper tantrums to see it get done. And it was everything you said it'd be."

"You've abducted an innocent party and you expect me to sit here reminiscing with you?" Barney snapped.

"What else is there to do on the drive?" Pinky returned.

"Why not tell me what's so pressing?" Barney folded his arms.

"In due time," Pinky said. "We're almost there."

Once the limousine pulled up at the mansion, Pinky got out first and gestured for Barney to follow him. "Come on, Professor. This way." He headed for the front door.

Barney trailed after him and inside, once the door was unlocked. "Where's Michelangelo?" he demanded.

"We're going to see him now." Pinky opened the door leading into the basement. "Come on."

Barney followed him down the stone steps and towards the underground laboratory. There were three ways in and out, he recalled: the door from the basement, one from the outside, and a trapdoor leading to a slippery slide inside the mountain that came out at the bottom. The latter was an escape measure that Pinky had rarely, if ever, had the chance to actually use.

At the same moment Pinky opened the door from the basement, Barney saw the outside door open on the other side of the laboratory. He could only stop and stare in shocked anger as Pinky's thugs carried an extremely limp Michelangelo inside and deposited him cruelly on the floor.

"What have you done to him?!" Barney roared.

"This." Pinky took out a strange ray gun from inside his coat. "This is the Energy-Zapper. We've been using it to pull heists all over the city. I'm sure you've heard about them."

Barney's eyes flashed. "The innocent victims of those heists were badly hurt," he snapped. "If any more of their energy had been drained, they would have been dead!"

"I'm glad to see you're up on things, Professor." Pinky pointed the gun at Michelangelo. "I got this gun from another source. He's gonna want it back. I want you to analyze and duplicate it so we'll have one after that happens. And if you don't do it, I'm going to give the Turtle here a second dose. Like you said, if he loses any more of his energy, it'll be fatal. He won't even be able to breathe."

Barney was practically shaking with anger. He looked from Pinky and the gun to Michelangelo, who was semi-conscious and struggling to speak.

"No," he rasped. "Don't . . . don't do it. . . ."

Barney clenched his fists. He couldn't let Michelangelo be killed. But he didn't want to throw his life away either. Oh, Baxter and Vincent would understand if he gave in to save Michelangelo. But . . . how could he trust anything this gangster told him?

"Michelangelo is dead either way," he said at last. "You won't let him go; the Turtles have been too detrimental to your purposes. Once I've done as you want, you'll kill him anyway. Then you'll find another way to keep me on a string, maybe by threatening to reveal that I worked for you again."

"You're smart," Pinky observed. "You always were. Unfortunately, this time it's not good for you."

"I won't work for you again," Barney said. "But I won't let you murder Michelangelo either."

"You can't do anything to stop me." Pinky held out the gun and started to pull the trigger.

Barney lunged, grabbing Pinky's arm and pushing it upward. The gun fired harmlessly into the air. Before Pinky could recover, Barney ran over to the console and pulled a lever. A hole started to open in the floor under Michelangelo. "I'm sorry, Michelangelo," he said, looking into the Turtle's stunned eyes for a split-second before he disappeared through the trapdoor. "I'm afraid you'll end up a little bruised from the journey. But you'll be alive," he whispered as the trapdoor closed.

Something hard came down on the back of his head. Stars swirled in his vision for a brief moment, along with one dark thought. _Poetic justice._ Then he collapsed and knew no more.

Pinky stood over him, gun in hand. "Sorry, Professor," he said, the hatred strong in his voice. "You've just outlived your usefulness. I'll buy some more brains. There's always more that can be bought when one of them goes soft. As for you . . ." He brought the gun down hard on Barney's lifeless body, beating him once, twice . . .

The door flew open. "Leave my brother alone."

The thugs shrieked. "What is it?!" yelped the first.

"It's a computer with arms and legs!" wailed the second.

"It's a computer wearing clothes!" said the first.

They ran around wildly, their arms in the air.

Pinky pulled on his hat. "Stop acting like idiots!" He turned to face Vincent. "You're gonna join your brother . . . in death." He pulled the trigger.

Vincent wasn't able to dive out of the way, but he didn't look afraid. He stood there, his hands on his hips, as the blast ricocheted off his chest and back at Pinky. The gangster roared in pain as he collapsed to the floor.

"Why?" Pinky hissed. "Should've worked. . . ."

Vincent walked over and picked up the gun. "The solid energy generator converts my energy into an entirely different form. You can't penetrate it. How ironic, isn't it? Barney's process saved me so I can save him. To quote one of his favorite expressions, you're a fool. And I'll amend that to you're all fools." He aimed the gun at the thugs, who had stopped flailing and were staring at him in horror. Then they were collapsing, their energy drained. Vincent switched off the gun and stuck it through his belt. "I'll just leave all of you here for the police."

Pinky glowered at him, too weakened to do much else.

Vincent knelt beside Barney, his eyes filling with anguish. He didn't know what he was going to find . . . or not find. He was almost afraid to look. But he had to. Gently he turned Barney onto his back.

"Oh Barney," he said softly. "Look what they did to you! If I only could have got here sooner. . . ." He lifted the lifeless body into his arms and stood. "There's no machine to help you this time. I'm so sorry. So sorry. . . ." He turned and walked sadly out the door.

xxxx

The Turtles and Splinter had picked up April and Baxter and were racing towards the mountain and the McFingers mansion. All were tense and upset, but none moreso than Raphael.

"Why the heck would McFingers do this?!" he cried. "Why take a Turtle?! And why Michelangelo?!"

"Obviously he believed that he could achieve his purposes with Michelangelo," Splinter said, his voice strained in his agonized fear.

"If it was Baxter he was after, then sure!" Raphael countered. "But Barney?!"

"Barney must be devastated and furious!" Baxter insisted. "He wouldn't take this lying down!"

"If he's really trying to get away from crime, he wouldn't let this stand in his way," Raphael fumed.

"So now you're worried that Barney _will_ insist on not working for Pinky McFingers, but at the expense of Michelangelo's life?" Baxter frowned. "How would that be living righteously?"

"Raphael, listen to yourself," Donatello spoke up. "I don't think you really believe what you're saying."

"Oh yeah? Then why am I saying it?!" Raphael shot back.

"Because it's the only way you can deal with your worry," Leonardo said quietly.

"That would be pretty lame, if you ask me," Raphael snapped.

"And it wouldn't be 'lame' to actually believe that Barney would do something so twisted and warped as to insist on not falling into crime even knowing someone would be killed if he didn't?!" Baxter's voice rose in his distress and anger.

"Why not?! He always was twisted and warped!" Raphael boomed.

Baxter's eyes flashed. "I love Michelangelo, but I also love my brother. And I refuse to believe that he would allow Michelangelo to die!"

"Then you're an idiot!" Raphael screamed.

"Raphael!" Splinter cut into the argument.

Both Raphael and Baxter looked to him. His voice was stern and angry; he had had enough.

"We are all deeply concerned about Michelangelo," he said. "But we do not know that Barney will allow harm to come to him. We have plenty of evidence to the contrary. We should not fling accusations without proof. And especially, no matter how upset we are, we should not insult our friends."

Raphael flinched, a bit of guilt flashing through his eyes. "I'm sorry, Baxter," he said gruffly. "Sensei's right; I shouldn't have said that to you."

"I suppose it's what you think regardless of if you say it or not," Baxter sighed. He looked and sounded weary and hurt.

"No, I really don't," Raphael said. He looked chagrined; he felt bad now. "I think you're naive, kind of like Michelangelo, but I don't think either of you are idiots." He ran a hand over his face. "Leonardo's right-I'm so worried about him I'm not even thinking about what I'm saying. I'm just blurting stuff out."

Baxter managed a weak smile. "I understand. I'm worried too."

"We're all worried." Leonardo's voice was taut now. As the leader, he was protective of all the Turtles. But when Michelangelo was the most childlike of the group, he naturally felt an even deeper protective sense over him.

Donatello nodded. "No one could take one of us without a fight." He gripped the steering wheel.

"Michelangelo is probably badly hurt," April said softly.

Raphael clenched his teeth. When a Turtle-Comm went off moments later, he was the first to grab it up. "Michelangelo?!" he boomed.

He wasn't prepared for the sight of Michelangelo looking up at him, his eyes half-shut, a bruise on his cheek and another on the top of his head. "Raphael . . . help," he struggled to say. "Barney . . ."

Splinter gasped. "Michelangelo, what is wrong?!"

"What about Barney?!" Raphael demanded. The sight of Michelangelo was sending his anger boiling over once again. "Did he let them do that to you?!"

"Raphael!" Baxter cried, angry and hurt and dismayed all at once. "The reason McFingers took Michelangelo was because he thought he could force Barney's hand and make Barney work for him to save Michelangelo!"

"Well, it doesn't look like it worked, does it?!" Raphael fumed. "Barney must have just wanted to save his own skin! It won't be safe when I catch up to him!"

It looked like a tear slipping from Michelangelo's eye.

Baxter leaned into the Turtle-Comm. "What's wrong, my friend? What happened to you and to Barney?!"

"Can't . . ." Michelangelo choked. "Please . . . don't hurt Barney . . ."

Now Leonardo was leaning into the Turtle-Comm. "Michelangelo, how did you get so beat-up?!"

"Barney," Michelangelo said again. "He . . ." But then his strength was gone and nothing more would come. The Turtle-Comm dropped from his hand.

"Michelangelo!" Splinter cried. It was no use. The Turtle-Comm was not picked up again.

"He's too weak," Baxter whispered in horror. "He can't even lift it. . . ."

Raphael gripped the Turtle-Comm tightly enough it was a miracle it didn't break. "There, you see?!" he snarled. "That's what comes of having faith in people! You all believed in Barney, and believe it or not, I wanted to! I thought he really was different! I thought he'd _changed!_ I couldn't forgive him, and I was worried he might turn against us, but at least I thought that he was our ally!" He slammed his fist into the wall of the Van. "I swear, if he really had anything to do with this, I'll kill him when we catch up to him!" 

"Raphael!" Splinter said sternly. "You must get control of yourself!" Even so, his eyes were flashing with worry and fear. What was wrong with Michelangelo? And what part had Barney played in what had happened?

"Raphael, stop it!" Baxter screamed. "Michelangelo can barely speak! You don't know what he's really trying to say! Surely you haven't forgotten what happened the last time you jumped to the conclusion that Barney betrayed us! The truth was the complete opposite of what you were thinking!"

"Michelangelo kept saying 'Barney,' like that was the answer to what we were asking!" Raphael roared. "Barney did that to him! Or he didn't stop it!"

"I don't believe that!" April exclaimed. "Not after everything we've been through together! I'll admit I didn't like Barney at first, but he's more than proved himself! And be honest, Raphael. Do you really think a little man like Barney could beat up a Ninja Turtle?!"

Raphael looked away. "No. . . . But obviously he had something to do with what happened! Michelangelo was even crying! Did you see that?! Barney betrayed him somehow. He must have!"

"Raphael, you're not thinking clearly," Donatello said from the driver's seat.

"You're driving; you didn't see it!" Raphael retorted. "We did!"

"And there could have been a lot of reasons for it," Leonardo said. "That said, there's a lot of questions I want to ask Barney too."

"Michelangelo begged us not to hurt Barney," Baxter said. "Raphael, are you really going to go against his wishes?!"

"Of course Michelangelo would say that!" Raphael shot back. "He's like you, wanting to give Barney chances when you shouldn't! Michelangelo's probably got some crazy notion now that even though Barney betrayed him, he had a good reason for it or something! Well, not this time. There could never be a good reason for this!"

Baxter looked to April in agony. He didn't know what to do. Raphael wouldn't consider other possibilities. Baxter honestly feared what would happen when Raphael and Barney encountered each other.

April laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright," she said softly. But her voice trembled. She wasn't sure of that.

They were approaching the bottom of the mountain now. It had only been moments since Michelangelo's call, but it felt more like an eternity. And when Michelangelo came into view, sprawled at the bottom and unable to even move, that was the final straw. Raphael leaped out of the Turtle Van and ran over to the orange-masked Turtle. "So this is how you got so beat-up?!" he cried. "You fell off the mountain?!"

"No," Michelangelo tried to say. "Came . . . out of it. . . ."

"Barney did it, didn't he?!" Raphael boomed. He barely noticed as the others gathered around, horrified at the sight.

"Michelangelo," Splinter breathed in dismay. Gently he laid a hand on the Turtle's head.

"Is he paralyzed?!" April wailed.

Donatello ran his portable X-Ray machine above Michelangelo's body. "No, he isn't," he said in relief. "But . . . it's like all the energy has been drained from him! That's why he can hardly speak!"

"It would have to be some wacky invention that caused that!" Raphael screamed. "Did Barney invent it for McFingers?!"

"No, he didn't!" Baxter screamed back. "Raphael, listen to this logic if you can't believe anything else. McFingers must be the one committing those energy robberies! He had the gun long before today! Barney couldn't have had anything to do with it!"

Raphael seethed as he processed Baxter's words. "Okay, so maybe he didn't invent it," he snapped. "But that doesn't let him off the hook here!"

Baxter felt like wailing in despair. "Michelangelo, please," he begged. "I know it's all but impossible, but you must try to tell us something about what happened." Fear flashed in his eyes. He was afraid for his friend, but at the moment he was even more afraid for his brother. Raphael wanted vengeance. Baxter was terrified that he would direct his vengeance at the wrong person. Barney was not responsible for this! Baxter couldn't prove it, but he refused to believe otherwise.

"He can't tell us anything more." Raphael straightened. "As far as I'm concerned, I know all that I need to. He keeps saying 'Barney'!" He pulled out his grappling hook. "I'm going up this mountain the fast way and I'll find that traitor! Then he'll be sorry! I'll kill him, I swear . . . !"

 _"Brother, STOP!"_

Everyone froze. Michelangelo had gathered every last ounce of strength to rise off the ground and desperately scream at Raphael.

"Michelangelo," Baxter gasped in horror. He reached to catch his friend as he fell helplessly back.

Raphael turned, shaken. "W-What . . . did you call me?" He stared at Michelangelo.

There were tears again. "Barney . . . _saved_ me," Michelangelo sobbed. "Be dead . . . without him. . . ." Then his eyes sank closed and he fell unconscious.

The grappling hook fell from Raphael's hands. The rage was gone, replaced by horror just as intense. "He . . . oh no." His hands shook. "Barney saved Michelangelo's life?"

"Of course he did!" Baxter cried, relieved and angry and distraught and he didn't know what else. He was very torn. He understood Raphael's suspicions and distrust, but that didn't make it any less horrible to have had to listen to Raphael scream about Barney's certain guilt and his determination to make the traitor pay. He hadn't known how to ever protect his brother against a rampaging Ninja Turtle.

He drew a deep breath, looking down at Michelangelo. The boy had given his all to make Raphael understand the truth. He wouldn't want any more disharmony between his loved ones. Baxter had to calm down and focus on what was important now.

Raphael had done a complete 180-degree turn. Now he was inconsolable. "I wouldn't listen," he said in horror. "Baxter was right about the truth being the complete opposite of what I was thinking . . . _again._ What if I'd found Barney and just lit into him without knowing the truth? What if I'd hurt him? Or . . . or worse?"

"We would have stopped you, Raphael," Leonardo said. "You love Michelangelo and you couldn't bear to think that Barney let him down, especially so horribly."

"That's not an excuse!" Raphael retorted. "All of you believed in him. I should have listened to you even though I couldn't let go of my feelings."

"You needed more than we did," Donatello said. "What he did in the past affected you so much, you just couldn't let it go."

"Until now," Raphael said quietly. "I have to let it go. It's been eating me up inside. Now it could have caused me to do something I could never take back!" He stared up the mountain. "But now . . . what's happened to him?"

Baxter gently passed Michelangelo to Leonardo and Splinter, who were already trying to examine him for the extent of the damage. "We have to find him," he said urgently. "Pinky McFingers may have already hurt him . . . or worse." The fear was still strong in his eyes. "If he could render a Ninja Turtle like this, what could he do to a physically weak man like my brother?"

Raphael grabbed the hook and swung it with all his might. "I'm going to go up there right now and find out," he vowed.

"And I'm coming with you," Baxter insisted.

"We'll take care of Michelangelo and then come with you too," Donatello called. "You might need our help if Barney's still with Pinky McFingers. Master Splinter and April can stay with Michelangelo in the Van."

April gave a shaky nod. "Poor Michelangelo. And poor Barney. What do you think has happened to him?!"

"I don't know, April," Leonardo said as he stood holding Michelangelo. "But I'm afraid it's not good."

xxxx

Raphael didn't speak at first as he scaled the mountain. He was sickened, horrified. He had been so filled with blind rage that he hadn't stopped to think or reason anything out. He had known Barney had been proving himself over and over. It was like Michelangelo had said, this was the way it was going to be now. Barney would keep helping them; he wouldn't turn against them. And yet Raphael still hadn't been able to forget what Barney had done to Michelangelo. His fears that Barney would slip back into his old ways, coupled with Michelangelo's mixed-up words and the repeating of Barney's name, had made him think that Barney truly had betrayed them for Pinky McFingers' money. Now he felt like the lowest slime possible.

"Why couldn't I let it go before?" he half-whispered, partially wanting Baxter to reply and partially not. "I wanted to so many times, but the past kept holding me back."

"I don't have all the answers," Baxter said. His voice trembled. He feared Barney was dead too-or at least, seriously hurt. "I . . . I know that what Donatello said was true-the past just affected you so deeply, you couldn't put it aside. That's how it is for some."

"But he hasn't given me any reason to doubt him," Raphael said in frustration. "He helped us over and over-Michelangelo, you, me, the whole _city. . . ._ But it was never enough. To me, nothing could make up for what he did to Michelangelo. Nothing could make me stop playing it on Repeat in my head. I think I was always looking for something he could do that would pay the price in full. As long as he couldn't, I wouldn't let go of the past." He reached the top and pulled himself up, then turned to wait for Baxter.

The little man didn't look as exhausted as Raphael thought he might from the climb. He was running on adrenaline and fear, but he was also in excellent physical condition in general from all the walking he loved to do. He made it to the top and only stumbled once as he got to his feet. "And now?" he asked, somewhat wary.

"I know nothing will ever take away the past," Raphael said forlornly. "But it _is_ the past. Barney really isn't the same person anymore, just as you and Michelangelo have kept trying to tell me. He's our ally, our friend, and he won't betray us. Maybe I'll keep being upset about the past, but I have to accept that the guy who did those things doesn't exist anymore. Or at least that . . . as unbelievable as it sounded before, that he really never meant for Michelangelo to be hurt."

"He never did," Baxter said softly. "No, it doesn't mean that what he did wasn't horrible. It doesn't mean he should be excused for doing it. But it simply isn't the same thing as if he wanted to kill Michelangelo. And it has haunted him since the moment he did it. No one hates Barney more for what he did than he hates himself."

"Now I'm finally ready to listen to those words, but is it too late?" Raphael looked up the winding driveway, seeking some sign of life.

"We have to go find out," Baxter said.

Raphael knew his friend was right. Drawing a deep breath, he hurried ahead. Baxter ran behind him. Both desperately hoped and prayed that their loved one was safe.

The sight of Vincent carrying a limp and completely still body through the yard sent a chill down Raphael's spine. "No," he whispered.

Behind him, Baxter felt his heart twist unbearably. "Barney . . . Vincent. . . ." He could not bear to think that Barney was dead, but . . . he was so motionless. . . . What if Pinky had killed him? The gangster must have been enraged when Barney did whatever he had done to set Michelangelo free. Baxter couldn't believe Pinky would let such an act go unpunished.

Raphael ran over just as Vincent reached the Cadillac. Barney's pale face said all that Raphael needed to know. "He's dead, isn't he?" he said sorrowfully. _My fear came true. I'm only finding I can forgive him when it's too late._

Vincent looked up with utter terror in his eyes. "I heard you when you screamed at the bottom of the mountain!" he cried. "No, Barney is not dead! And I'll die before I let you make him dead!" He trembled with fear as he clutched Barney close to him.

"No!" Raphael exclaimed. Now he was both relieved to know the truth and filled with a new wave of stricken shame that he had been overheard. "No, Michelangelo was finally able to tell us the truth. He . . . he said Barney saved him. . . ."

"Yes!" Vincent said. "Of course Barney saved him! He didn't hurt him!"

"What happened to him?!" Baxter cried as he ran up now. "Was he drained of his energy too?!"

"When I arrived, he was unconscious and Pinky McFingers was beating him with the gun," Vincent said bitterly. "I also found a harsh bump on his head."

Baxter laid a gentle hand on Barney's head. "Oh poor Barney. . . ."

"But how did you get him away from them?!" Raphael demanded.

"I drained McFingers and his thugs of their energy," Vincent said. "They can wait for the police like that."

"Serves them right," Raphael growled.

"Yes." Vincent's voice was dark.

Raphael's repulsion over Pinky McFingers faded back to his sickened horror at himself as he stared at the man who had been hurt while saving Michelangelo. "I'm so sorry," he said sadly. "I let my anger take over. I wasn't listening to reason. I thought Barney betrayed Michelangelo."

"Naturally you would, even after everything he's done to try to show he's changed." Vincent opened the Cadillac door and carefully laid Barney on the backseat. He was still shaking.

Baxter climbed into the car and knelt on the floor beside him. "I'll ride down with you," he said.

Vincent gave Baxter a warm smile.

Raphael just stood by, feeling helpless and small. "I know I can't ask for forgiveness after all this. . . ."

Vincent straightened and looked to him. "I'm tired of hatred and distrust. I know Barney is too. He has been for a long time. But . . . I am very shaken right now. I . . . I don't know what to say. I . . ." His shoulders trembled and he reached up, covering his eyes with his hands. "I thought I was going to lose my brother! I just got him away from those gangsters and then I heard you screaming you were going to _kill_ him!"

Raphael swallowed hard. "I can't believe I would have really tried to hurt him, even if Michelangelo hadn't finally managed to tell us the whole truth. Once I got up here and saw him like that . . . I can't believe I wouldn't have asked questions first. . . ."

Vincent sobbed, slumping against the side of the car. "I don't know if I've ever been that afraid before. . . . Not for myself, but for someone else . . . and knowing I had to do everything possible to protect him . . . while at the same time trying not to hurt you, since you were angry about the supposed injustice done to your own brother. . . ."

Baxter scrambled back out of the car, worried. He had definitely never seen Vincent like this. He had always been the strong one through everything. Now even he had reached his breaking point.

"Vincent . . ." Raphael stared at the computer. "I . . . I'm so sorry. . . . I know it doesn't make up for anything. . . . I just feel like trash right now. . . ."

"Which is how Barney has felt for so long," Vincent rasped.

Baxter laid a hand on Raphael's shoulder and the other on Vincent's. "Everything that happened here was horrible," he said. "Except for Barney's courage and sacrifice. If anything, he would want us to find a way to use it to mend all the hurt and pain we've been going through for months. Can we do that?"

Both of them looked to him. "I'm sure willing to try," Raphael said. "Barney . . . he's not the same as he was then. I've known that, but at the same time I've been afraid to believe it and I've treated him rotten a lot because I've been afraid."

". . . I'll try," Vincent said softly. "It's what you've longed for so long, Baxter. I wanted things to be normal so that you and Barney could both be happy."

Baxter smiled at them both in a sincere yet melancholy way. He wished it hadn't taken this to soften hearts enough that uniting would be possible, but he was happy that something had done it.

"When I really started coming up here, I was so worried," Raphael said. "I was afraid I'd get up here and find Barney dead. Then I saw him and I thought he really was . . ." He shook his head. "I've been afraid I'd only forgive him after he was gone. It was an awful feeling to see him laying there like that. . . ." He looked over at the car. "He still looks so . . . so pale and still. You're sure he's alive?!"

"He's alive," Vincent said. He smiled a bit again. "I never thought I'd ever hear you so worried about him."

"I never thought I'd let myself show that I'm so worried about him," Raphael said. "Shouldn't he have woke up by now?!"

"He was hit very hard," Vincent said.

Baxter hugged Vincent and again laid a hand on Raphael's shoulder before climbing back in the car with Barney. "Then he might not wake up for a while yet," he said softly. ". . . Or ever." The fear came back into his eyes.

Vincent straightened and started to climb into the driver's seat. "He has to wake up," he insisted. "I won't believe he won't."

Baxter took Barney's hand while gently smoothing back his hair with his other hand. "Please come back to us, Barney," he whispered. "Please. . . ."

Raphael looked from them to Vincent. "Do you really know how to drive?!" he exclaimed.

"How do you think I got up here in the first place?" Vincent replied.

Raphael sighed. "Well, ask a stupid question. . . ." He stepped back. "I'll see you at the bottom of the mountain."

"Shouldn't you come with us?" Baxter frowned.

"I can slide down that rope faster than you can reach the bottom driving this boat," Raphael said.

"Alright," Vincent said.

"Let us know if there's any change in Michelangelo's condition," Baxter said in concern.

"Bring him to our house," Vincent suggested. "There's plenty of room."

Raphael blinked. "Are you sure?"

"I think that's what Barney would want," Vincent said. "And . . ." He looked to Baxter. "We do too."

Baxter nodded. "Very much so."

"Okay," Raphael said, still in some surprise.

"Oh." Vincent reached and pulled the gun out of his belt. "Give this to Donatello. Maybe he can figure out how to throw it in reverse and restore Michelangelo's energy."

Raphael took the gun from him. "I'll do that. Vincent . . . thanks."

"Thank you for finally listening," Vincent said quietly.

". . . Why do you think he did it?" Raphael said, equally quietly. "Why did he do any of these things? Was he just trying to redeem himself or get on my good side?"

Vincent looked up at him. "He didn't save you to try to redeem himself, nor did he save Michelangelo for that reason. He did it out of love, Raphael." He glanced at his brothers through the rear-view mirror. "There's one thing you have to understand about Barney. He doesn't love too little. He never has. He loves so much he doesn't always know what to do about it. It overwhelms him."

Raphael bowed his head. "Like when he couldn't bring himself to hurt any version of Michelangelo again, even four energy demons," he said softly. "I understand, Vincent. I finally understand." He stepped back.

"Good," said Vincent. He revved the engine and started down the mountain.

Taking a deep breath, Raphael turned and went back to the rope. He quickly descended.

Leonardo and Donatello had been just about ready to throw their hooks and ascend themselves. "Raphael, what's going on up there?!" Leonardo demanded.

"Is Barney alright?!" Donatello added.

"I . . ." Raphael shook his head. "I don't know if he's going to be alright," he said sadly. "He survived the explosion on the mountain, blowing up the lightning gun, and falling off a balcony . . . no, two balconies. How many times can somebody beat the odds?"

Leonardo and Donatello exchanged a concerned look.

"We've beat the odds countless times," Leonardo said. "Don't count Barney out yet."

"I won't," Raphael said. "Baxter and Vincent sure aren't going to give up on him." He looked to the Van. "How's Michelangelo? Any better?"

"No," Donatello shook his head. "I'm afraid it will take a lot of rest to replenish the energy he's lost."

"Maybe this'll help." Raphael held out the ray gun. "This is what McFingers used on him. If you can figure out how to throw it in reverse, maybe we can restore Michelangelo's energy to him."

Donatello's eyes widened. "This is great, Raphael. Thanks!" He took it and looked it over. "There has to be a way to throw it in reverse. Otherwise, the stored energy won't do anyone any good."

"Don't thank me," Raphael said. "Vincent took care of McFingers and his goons and brought the gun back." He sighed and headed for the Van. "Let's get back to the city. Oh, and Vince invited us to come over to their place with Michelangelo instead of taking him to the Lair."

"I think Michelangelo would like that," Leonardo said. "He'll be worried about Barney when he wakes up."

"And vice versa," Raphael said gruffly. "Depending on who wakes up first. It'll be good for them to be in the same place." He shifted. "Anyway . . . we're going to have a lot of things to discuss with everyone when everyone's awake and starting to get better."

Leonardo didn't ask what, but he smiled a bit. "I'm sure Master Splinter and April will be fine with going there," he said. "Come on, let's talk to them." He headed for the Van, Donatello and Raphael following.

Raphael fell silent as they walked. "Did you hear what Michelangelo called me to get my attention?" He shook his head. " _Brother._ We've never called each other that. . . ."

"We are brothers, though, aren't we?" Leonardo said quietly. "We've been together all our lives, even before our transformations. Maybe we're not biologically related; we've never been sure of that. But that isn't what's important. We're not related to Splinter either, but we're all a family with him."

Donatello nodded. "And look how Baxter and Barney have fully accepted Vincent as a third brother." He smiled. "They couldn't care less that Vincent isn't related to them . . . or that he, well, isn't even organic at all. He's loving and loyal and caring and kind. . . . He's probably more like what a family member should be like than their parents are."

"I know what makes a family doesn't have much to do with if you're related to each other or not," Raphael said. "I'm . . . just surprised, I guess. Since we've never called each other 'brother' and then Michelangelo goes and does it. . . . He sure got my attention."

"In the most meaningful way possible," Leonardo said. They were at the Van now and he looked into the cab, where Michelangelo was laying on the seat. Splinter was sitting next to him.

"There has been no change in Michelangelo's condition," Splinter said sadly. "How is Barney?"

"Hurt, maybe badly," Leonardo frowned. He and Raphael got into the back with April while Donatello went around to the driver's seat. "Donatello, are you sure all that Michelangelo needs is rest?"

"I can't find any serious injuries other than his energy drained," Donatello said. "Those people who were hurt in the robberies seemed to be okay after a lot of rest. Michelangelo might recover quicker since he's a mutant, but . . ." He sighed. "We'll just have to see."

Leonardo sighed too, in resignation. They would have to take Donatello's word for now. "We're going to Barney's house if that's alright, Master," he said. "Vincent invited us to bring Michelangelo there."

"That is a very thoughtful and kind idea," Splinter said. "Michelangelo will be worried about Barney when he awakens."

"That's just what we figured," Leonardo smiled now.

The Cadillac drove past and continued down the road. Donatello started the engine and fell into place behind it.

"Who is driving?" Splinter blinked.

"Vincent," Raphael said.

"He is very good," Splinter remarked.

"I'd say 'Especially since he doesn't have a license,' only none of us do either," Raphael said.

"Perhaps someday we can remedy that," Splinter said. He looked down at Michelangelo. "When all of you are healthy and well."

xxxx

Baxter was still kneeling on the floor of the Cadillac, surveying his brother's soft breathing. If not for how pale and pained Barney looked, he would seem to be asleep instead of unconscious. Frowning, Baxter leaned over to feel for the bump. He hadn't located it before, although he hadn't doubted Vincent's word. But part of him still wondered if Barney had been drained of his energy the same as Michelangelo. Then he felt the bump under his fingers. He cringed, but Barney did not react.

Vincent had been quiet coming down the mountain. Now, as they headed for Manhattan, he still didn't speak. Baxter shifted, turning to look at him in concern. "Vincent? Are you alright?"

Vincent was tightly gripping the steering wheel. "I . . . don't know," he confessed. "I'm so happy Raphael finally recognizes that Barney is not a danger anymore. Logically, that should be all that matters. But I'm . . . still so shaken. I thought I really would have to defend Barney to the death, and somehow do it without injuring Raphael. . . . It was terrifying."

Baxter reached over, gripping Vincent's upper arm. "I'm so sorry, Vincent. I was terrified too. It was a horrible, tragic situation from all sides."

"I'm a computer. . . . Why can't I just be logical?" Vincent said softly.

"Because you have feelings," Baxter replied. "You've never had to test them in a situation like this before."

"I've been in so many situations where I could have fallen apart and didn't," Vincent said. "That's . . . not supposed to happen to me. . . ."

"You were always so strong for me," Baxter said. "And for Barney. But everyone has a breaking point. Even computers." He paused. "Would you rather . . . not feel?"

"No!" Vincent exclaimed. "Then I wouldn't care about you and Barney. I would never want that. I'm just . . . unused to this particular type of feeling. I hope I won't . . . have to experience it very often. . . ."

"I hope so too," Baxter said sincerely. "It's never pleasant."

". . . You said you were terrified too," Vincent said. "Are _you_ alright, Pal?"

"Well, I'm not terrified at the moment," Baxter said slowly, "but can either of us be alright until we know Barney will be alright?"

"Of course we can't," Vincent acknowledged.

Another hesitation. "Are you . . . angry at Raphael?"

"I don't know what I am," Vincent responded. "I _am_ tired of hatred and distrust. And I believe that Raphael has finally given that all up. I don't want to start behaving as he did. Part of me understands; I would certainly be furious in his position. And I suppose after what we did in the past, we're supposed to calmly accept that we'll be suspect when something goes wrong. But when Barney is innocent, and he's been trying so hard to help the Turtles, including Raphael . . . another part of me is upset."

"I was upset too," Baxter said kindly. "I think it would be impossible not to be, when a loved one is threatened."

". . . You said you _were_ upset," Vincent prompted. "You're not now?"

"I thought about how Michelangelo gave his last ounce of strength to scream the truth at Raphael and make him realize Barney is innocent," Baxter said. "It would break Michelangelo's heart for more ill feelings to spring up. I couldn't do that to him. I had to control my feelings. And when I talked to Raphael on our way up the mountain, any remaining anger drained away. He was truly devastated, Vincent, just as you saw him. Now, just like with Barney, no one is more upset at Raphael's behavior than Raphael."

Vincent sighed. "I definitely picked up that he was sincerely distraught," he agreed. "Maybe I just need a little time to stop shaking."

"I think everyone needs that sometime," Baxter said. "And you can be grateful that you only heard Raphael screaming at the bottom of the mountain. You didn't have to ride with him all the way here, listening to him rant and rave about Barney most of the time."

Vincent cringed. "That would have been awful."

"It was," Baxter shuddered. "I felt so helpless. . . ."

". . . How is Barney?" Vincent asked.

"No change," Baxter replied, his voice filled with sadness. "Barney, can you hear us?"

Silence was his only answer.

xxxx

The two vehicles reached the mansion without incident. Vincent parked near the house and got out, then came around to open the back door.

Baxter looked up. He and Vincent had continued to talk on the drive, as well as talking to Barney, but nothing had revived their brother. "His pulse is normal, unlike when he was thrown off the balcony," Baxter said softly. "Why doesn't he wake up? Are you sure his energy wasn't drained, Vincent?" He climbed out to allow Vincent to lift Barney off the seat.

"I didn't think so," Vincent said softly. "I can run some more tests when we get inside." He reached inside and gently took Barney in his arms.

"Maybe we should have gone to the hospital," Baxter worried.

"Maybe we should, if he doesn't wake up soon," Vincent said. He hugged Barney close as he headed for the steps. "I know Barney would hate waking up there. If there's any way to avoid it, that would certainly make him happier. If they couldn't do any more for him than we could here, why bother to go there?"

"You have a point." Baxter unlocked the front door and opened it for them. "And you said that gun is from another source," he worried. "It seems like alien technology to me."

"Yes. And if Barney was hit with that, I doubt the hospital would know what to do." Vincent walked inside and towards the stairs. "Those people from the robberies weren't given any special treatment; they just needed to rest."

"It's probably the head injury keeping him unconscious," Baxter said softly. Behind him, he heard the Turtles, Splinter, and April coming inside too. "And I can just imagine poor Barney thinking it was such poetic justice for him to be struck like that, after he hit me in the past. . . ."

"He would," Vincent agreed. He climbed the stairs and went into Barney's bedroom.

Baxter looked over his shoulder at the others. "Bring Michelangelo upstairs," he said. "I'll take you to one of the vacant bedrooms."

Donatello was carrying Michelangelo now, and he swiftly followed Baxter's instructions, as did the others. He laid Michelangelo on the bed in the room Baxter directed them to and then took out the gun. "I'm going to go into the lab and work on this," he said. "Call me if there's any change . . . with either of them."

"We will," Leonardo promised.

Raphael sighed. "So now what?"

Splinter sat down next to the bed. "Now, we wait."

Raphael glowered at the floor. "I was afraid you were going to say that, Sensei. Oh, of course you're right and all, but . . ." He raised his gaze to Michelangelo's silent form. "I hate waiting for something like this. . . ."

"Don't we all," Splinter quietly acknowledged.

xxxx

Waiting for two loved ones to wake up soon wore everyone down. They passed back and forth between the rooms, checking on the other injured before returning to where they had started.

Baxter looked exhausted as he came back to Michelangelo's room again after several such checks. "How is he?" he quietly asked.

"He's still the same," April softly answered. "And Barney?"

"He as well." Baxter came closer to the bed. "Michelangelo, can you hear me?" he asked. There was no reply, but Baxter persisted. "I scoffed in the past, but I've learned that unconscious beings _can_ hear others talking around them and to them.

"We're all worried about you, my friend. We want you to come back to us." He laid his hand on Michelangelo's. "You have done so very much for me. I know you've helped Barney as well."

"And you have brightened all our lives," Splinter added.

Leonardo nodded. "Master Splinter suggested that we each tell a favorite memory about Michelangelo to try to get through to him," he said. "I was just going to get Donatello to come give one too."

Baxter sat down next to the bed. "What have the other memories been?" he asked. He was curious, both because Michelangelo was his friend and because he had never heard of such a concept.

"Splinter told when Michelangelo was first learning how to be a ninja and he tried practicing in the kitchen, jumping off the counter," April chuckled.

Baxter did as well. "How old was he?"

"About seven," Leonardo smiled. "We were around six-and-a-half human years when we were mutated."

Baxter shook his head. "Strange. . . . I don't believe I ever thought about that. I assumed you were mutated close to the ages you were when I met you."

"I think I did too," April said in surprise.

"We lived in the Lair for several years before Oroku Saki began attempting to take over the city," Splinter said. "He and Krang apparently spent that time preparing their forces. The Turtles were 13 when you and Baxter met them."

"Those must have been some really interesting early years!" April exclaimed.

"Oh yes," said Splinter.

" _Really_ interesting," Leonardo stressed. "But of course, things have been interesting all along the way. My memory was of the day Michelangelo met Bugman." He smiled. "He was so excited to finally meet such a big idol of his."

Baxter smiled a bit. "I can imagine."

"And mine was when he was delivering pizzas and didn't want the other Turtles to know," April chuckled. "He had me try to deliver the pizza they'd ordered."

Baxter was amused. "I can imagine that happening. And what was Raphael's memory?"

"His was of the time Michelangelo saved the rest of us when we were caught by a mad scientist," Leonardo said.

"I haven't heard about that," Baxter said in surprise.

"Naturally Michelangelo wouldn't have mentioned it," Splinter said.

"I'd like to hear about it, if you wouldn't mind telling it again," Baxter said.

"I'd be happy to," Leonardo said.

"But first, I should tell something too." Baxter looked back to Michelangelo. "My friend, I have so many favorite memories of you, but one that stands out is when you came to me when I was recovering from being so ill. You had no real reason to be, but you were so kind and friendly to me. That worked so much on my damaged heart. I didn't know then that we would become so close, but I knew you were very special."

Splinter smiled.

Down the hall, Raphael hesitantly paused outside Barney's room. Vincent was talking to him, and although Raphael knew he should probably just turn and go back, instead he lingered.

"I remember when Baxter first talked about you and then went to see you to beg for help about his cross-fusion," Vincent said softly. "I didn't meet you then, as Baxter thought it would be better if he went alone. I waited outside in the yard. He came back in hysterics, saying you'd failed him on purpose. I knew his mind was going, so I wasn't sure whether to believe him, but I knew I didn't like you from the things Baxter had told me.

"I definitely didn't like you when I finally did meet you, when Baxter was manipulated by Professor Sopho into hurting you. But then I saw how much Baxter loved you in spite of everything. Part of me said it was just a blind sibling bond, but the other part started to wonder if there was any chance that there was something he saw that I didn't.

"Baxter always saw so much good in you, Barney! And when we were thrown together and I started talking to you, I began to see it too. You always had faults, and there was no doubt that you had deep-rooted problems with your family, but . . . you were more than that. You showed that so many times in the past, just as you've shown it today. Please wake up, Buddy. . . ."

A pause, then, "You can come in."

Raphael stiffened. "You . . . knew I was here?" He peered around the doorway.

"Of course I did. My hearing is exceptional." Vincent gestured for Raphael to enter.

"So . . . why did you keep talking to him?" Raphael asked. He slowly walked into the room. Barney was laying just as he had before, albeit on his back instead of his side. Still silent, still unconscious. It made Raphael feel uncomfortable, especially after his enraged outbursts from earlier.

"I wanted you to hear." Vincent leaned back. "And Raphael, I want you to know that I do forgive you. I started thinking about something. I hated Barney for months because of the past. Now look at us."

"We could never be close like that," Raphael objected.

"No, most likely not. But it isn't impossible. And after today, it's certainly possible for the both of you to begin mending the hurt and pain."

"If he wakes up," Raphael said morosely.

"I believe he will," Vincent said.

Raphael didn't look as sure. And while he wasn't terribly comfortable talking to unconscious people, he had certainly followed Splinter's advice about Michelangelo before leaving to check in here. Maybe he could do it once more. . . .

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the bed. "Hey," he said quietly, uncomfortably. "Come on, wake up. Your brothers are sad without you. And . . . if you don't wake up . . ." He swallowed hard. "The rest of us are going to be sad too." His shoulders slumped and he looked down. "Yeah, even me. I . . . I want you to come back, Barney. Please. . . ." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I only got to this point with Baxter-admitting I cared about him and forgave him and like that-when we thought he was gone. Now we don't know if you're coming back. I wasn't grateful you were around when you were. I couldn't appreciate you because I kept being afraid you were going to turn against us. Now you're . . . you're maybe not coming back. Don't do that to your brothers. And Michelangelo, he . . . he'd be heartbroken too. And me, I . . . I don't deserve it after all the time I squandered, but . . . I want another chance. Please, give me another chance!" He straightened, slamming his hands on the edge of the bed. "Wake up already!"

Vincent stood, gently pushing Raphael back. Raphael looked to him, dismayed at having jarred the bed.

". . . What makes you think he's going to wake up?" he asked sorrowfully.

"Because I won't lose him like this," Vincent insisted. "And Barney is a scrapper, just like Baxter. He won't go down easily. He's fighting to wake up right now. I believe in him. So does Baxter."

Raphael looked forlorn. "I want to believe in him too," he admitted. "But he . . . he was hurt so bad. . . . He must have been, or he'd wake up. . . ."

"He'll come back." Vincent sat back down next to the bed.

From Raphael's eyes, he still wasn't sure that it wasn't blind, hopeless faith. But he knew that he wouldn't give up on any of the other Turtles or Splinter in a case like this. Finally he just nodded and turned to slip out the door.

"And Raphael?" Vincent spoke again. "I know that he _will_ give you another chance."

Raphael glanced back over his shoulder. Vincent was smiling, confident, knowing. And somehow, Raphael realized, he was sure it was true. Barney would be the last person to hold blame on Raphael.

"Yeah," Raphael rasped. Unable or unwilling to say more and risk his voice failing him, he retreated into the hall and met Baxter coming out of Michelangelo's room.

"Raphael?" Baxter asked in concern. "Is Barney . . . ?!"

"Still alive," Raphael said. But instead of going back into Michelangelo's room, he walked past Baxter and kept going, heading for the balcony at the end of the corridor.

Baxter watched him in concern. Clearly Raphael wanted to be alone. Baxter hurried back into Barney's room. "What's wrong with Raphael?" he exclaimed.

"I think he's just overwhelmed," Vincent said softly. "He's afraid Barney won't wake up. And he's awash with guilt over having not been able to forgive and trust Barney before now."

Baxter sighed sadly. "I'm glad that something helped him do that, but I wish it hadn't been this. I don't blame Raphael for having so many suspicions and issues, but I have felt badly that he wasn't able to put them behind him after Barney started showing how he's changed."

"I know," said Vincent. "I've felt the same." He looked to Barney. "But I don't know how I would have felt in his place. I'm not as forgiving as you, Pal."

Baxter laid a hand on Vincent's. "You forgave Barney," he said.

"Yes," Vincent mused. "I did."

Baxter looked back to Barney laying on the bed. "Vincent . . ." He swallowed hard. "Do you . . . really believe so strongly that Barney will be alright?"

". . . I have to," Vincent said after a brief hesitation. "I . . . couldn't deal with it otherwise."

Baxter bit his lip. "I couldn't either," he said softly.

xxxx

When Donatello came up from the laboratory, he regarded Michelangelo in sadness and concern. "No change?" he sighed.

"No," Leonardo said. "Any luck with the gun?"

"Not yet." Donatello sank into a chair. "I'm telling you, whoever designed this thing made the reverse mechanism really hard to figure out, probably on purpose. They don't want anyone else collecting the energy!" He looked around and blinked. "Hey, where's Raphael?"

"He went to check on Barney a few moments ago," Splinter frowned. "He hasn't come back."

"Correction-I'm back." Raphael sighed as he shuffled into the bedroom. "I just needed some alone time for a few minutes."

"How is Barney?" Splinter asked.

"Unconscious," Raphael said flatly. "Just like Michelangelo." He looked sadly at the orange-masked Turtle. "Only with Michelangelo, we can figure he should be okay with a lot of rest. Who knows if Barney's going to get better."

"Vincent and Baxter and I all examined his vital signs," Donatello said. "I really think he's going to be okay too."

Raphael slumped against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. "I just wish I'd listened harder to Michelangelo and all of you when you tried to tell me Barney wasn't going to betray us," he said sadly. "If he kicks it now . . ."

"Raphael, you really did try to listen to us," Donatello said. "And you recognized you had a problem and wanted to fix it."

Leonardo nodded. "You just weren't ready before now."

"It couldn't have been any other way," April said.

"But if he dies . . ." Raphael shook his head. "I . . . I'll always feel bad." On some level, he knew it wasn't usual for him to bear his soul like this, at least if he wasn't just talking to Splinter alone, but it had been such a long and strange day already that at the moment he didn't care.

Splinter stood. "Naturally you would, my Turtle, but I do not believe Barney would want that from you." He laid a hand on Raphael's shoulder. "Perhaps ironically, Barney understands your feelings towards him better than anyone else here. He would not blame you for them; he never has."

"I know, Sensei." Raphael looked back at Michelangelo again. "Baxter and Barney . . . they're not like any friends we've had before. Not that we ever had many to begin with. But I mean . . . they're . . . darker, I guess. Vincent too. They were all bad guys on different levels and now they're trying to be good. Maybe it's always been kind of strange knowing how to deal with that. Well, Lotus Blossom ended up kind of good by the last time we saw her, but even she wasn't like these guys."

"I understand, Raphael," Splinter nodded. "When you and the other Turtles have always been raised to be good, it would be difficult to know how to deal with those who have fallen into ill paths."

"It was easier with Baxter," Raphael said. "Not just because he'd gone nuts, but because . . . I don't know . . . he's softer and gentler in his right mind. He says he used to be like Michelangelo. Maybe I see some of that in him.

"Barney . . . he's still dark. And angry. And he hates himself." Raphael scowled. "Maybe I see a lot of myself in him and that's part of what makes it so much harder-I'm seeing a dark mirror of me and I don't like it. Now, though . . . I'm finally seeing the good in him. _Really_ seeing it, not just seeing it and wondering how long it'll last. I just wish I'd seen it before."

"You were starting to," Leonardo said.

"And with Michelangelo . . ." Raphael pushed away from the wall. "He probably only got nabbed today because he was outside. If I'd been the one to go, it would have been me instead. I hate that it was him!"

"I wish it hadn't been anyone," Splinter said. "But perhaps there was a blessing in all of this. If it hadn't been Michelangelo, would you have felt differently about Barney?"

Raphael shook his head. "That's what I've been going over and over in my head, Sensei, and I just don't know. Maybe, if it'd been Leonardo or Donatello. But if it'd been me again . . ." He threw up his arms and started to pace. "I don't want to think that if we were going through this exact same thing and it'd been me suffering with my energy drained, I wouldn't have realized that Barney is trustworthy just because it was me he helped and not Michelangelo. Michelangelo was right; Barney risked his life for us in the past. Does it really matter which of us it was for? I mean, does it matter to me. I said it did then, but now, I don't know."

"Perhaps some things we will never know the answers to," Splinter said. "And perhaps now it does not matter. Instead of looking on the past, it would be better to look ahead to the future."

"But . . . will Barney _have_ a future?" Raphael said quietly. "I was so shaken up when he was thrown off the balcony for me, but that machine was able to heal the worst damage. This time, we just don't know if he's going to be alright."

"None of us can know that," said Splinter. "We can only hope and pray for the best."

Raphael sighed. "I know you're right, Sensei. I wanted something more concrete, but that's not possible right now."

"I have some good news about Michelangelo," Donatello said. He let go of the other Turtle's wrist. "His pulse is climbing closer to normal."

Everyone brightened. "Oh, that's great!" Raphael exclaimed. The others echoed similar sentiments.

"Maybe he'll wake up soon!" Leonardo said hopefully.

"I'm afraid he's still got a long way to go to get his strength back," Donatello said. "But things are definitely looking good!"

"Thank you, Donatello," Splinter said with a nod. "This is very good news for an old ninja master. But more importantly, it is very good news for a father."

April smiled. "I haven't seen this side of you guys very much," she said. "I like it."

"I think we should show this side of us more often," Leonardo said. "I know Michelangelo would agree."

The others nodded. "We've been gradually trying to be more open with each other ever since the disaster with those energy demons," Donatello said. "It's been good for us."

"I have noticed," said Splinter, "and yes, it has been. Further proving my point about blessings in the strangest places."

A soft knock on the open door brought their attention up. Vincent was standing there, looking slightly shy but hopeful.

"Come in, friend," Splinter greeted. "How is Barney?"

"Still unconscious." Pain flickered in Vincent's eyes, but then it was gone. "And Michelangelo?"

"His energy's coming back," Raphael said. "Slow but sure. Right, Donatello?"

"That's right," Donatello smiled.

"I'm glad," said Vincent. "Baxter will be so happy too." He came into the room and over to the bed, where he laid a hand on Michelangelo's shoulder. "Do you hear that, Michelangelo? We're all anxious for you to get better. Barney would be too, if he were awake." He stepped back. "I should get back to him. . . ."

"Yes, go," Splinter agreed. "Let us know when he recovers."

"I will," Vincent promised.

"It's strange how a computer can be so alive," April remarked when Vincent had departed.

"Vincent is no ordinary computer," Leonardo said.

"He truly is alive," Splinter said. "And a very valuable member of our family."

"Yeah." Raphael gazed out the open doorway in awed amazement. "Family. . . . He really is." And, he imagined, Vincent had probably heard. But that was okay. Now, Raphael wanted him to hear.

xxxx

 _"Barney?"_

 _He opened his eyes again, looking up in surprise as Leonardo spoke. They were still driving back to New York City from High Falls following their escapade on the Technodrome that had stuck it in the mud. Barney had been resting for a while, not having expected someone to speak._

 _"Barney, you risked your life for Raphael," Leonardo said. "We're all very grateful."_

 _"I know you would be," Barney said._

 _"Like, for sure, Dude," Michelangelo said. "You're a good guy. You show us that more every time some mondo disaster happens."_

 _Donatello nodded. He was up front driving, but he sounded every bit as sincere as the others. "I don't give my trust to humans easily," he said, "and of course it's been hard trusting you after the things you did. But you've proved yourself over and over. You protected Michelangelo in the past and now you went and did this. I want you to know, I . . . forgive you, Barney. And now I trust you too."_

 _Baxter beamed, especially seeing Barney's surprise. Vincent, too, looked thrilled._

 _"I . . . don't know what to say," Barney finally stammered. "I just did what needed doing. I didn't want Raphael hurt. . . ."_

 _"Of course not, Bud," Michelangelo said. "Because you're a good guy. And our amigo."_

 _Barney looked at Michelangelo in awe and disbelief, but he didn't protest._

 _"Our friend," Leonardo and Donatello echoed._

 _"And our brother," Baxter added, smiling at him and at Vincent._

 _"Always," Vincent agreed._

The dream-memory faded and was replaced by the unwelcome pain in reality. Barney groaned as he revived, reaching up a hand to rub his head.

"Barney?!" Baxter and Vincent chorused at once.

Barney slowly opened his eyes. "What . . . where's Michelangelo?" he mumbled, somehow still sounding urgent even as his words slurred. "He was found, wasn't he?!"

"Yes, Barney," Baxter soothed. "He's here in the house."

"He's not awake yet," Vincent added. "But we're really glad you are, Buddy! We've been so worried."

"How do you feel, Barney?" Baxter asked.

Barney was silent a moment. "To say it hurts would be an understatement." He closed his eyes. "You must have hurt like this when I hit you. . . ."

"I think my heart hurt more than my head," Baxter said softly. "But then I learned that you risked your life for me by lying to Krang right afterwards. It's so ironic, but your hitting me led to me finally realizing that you loved me. And that . . ." He shook his head. "That was so healing for me. So much of my bitterness and pain melted away once I had that truth."

Barney grunted. "Well, I don't want to say that I'm glad I hit you, because I never could be glad of that." He opened his eyes. "But I'm glad it led to something good. Even though I also don't want to think that we never would have come to that knowledge if I hadn't done it."

"I don't want to think that either," Baxter said. "I think we would have. You still would have found Vincent and he would have helped you. And eventually we all would have wound up here, together as a family."

"I suppose." Barney frowned a bit. ". . . Was Raphael angry when he found Michelangelo drained of his energy? . . . No, don't answer that. That was an idiotic question. What I really meant was, Did he blame me in some way."

Baxter and Vincent exchanged a stricken look. They really didn't like to be the ones to tell Barney what had happened. They had hoped Raphael would tell him later and that the two of them could have a badly needed heart-to-heart.

"Why would he blame you, Buddy?" Vincent asked at last.

"Because Pinky McFingers kidnapped Michelangelo to get at me. . . . Because I turned McFingers down even with Michelangelo's life on the line, since I knew he wouldn't be spared in any case. . . . Because the only way I could get Michelangelo out of there was to send him through the trapdoor and he had no way to brace himself as he descended. . . . Because . . . oh, who knows why. Raphael would find plenty of reasons to blame me, and probably 99% of them would be perfectly understandable."

The sharp intake of breath from the doorway caused everyone to look over. Raphael was standing there, looking guilty as well as stricken. "It's worse than any of those things," he blurted. "I thought . . . well, Michelangelo could hardly say anything, and when he did, he just kept saying your name and I thought . . . I thought you'd betrayed him!" He shut his eyes tightly. "Instead, he wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for you!"

Barney looked slightly hurt but at the same time, not surprised. "Naturally you would blame me," he said. "There's no forgiveness for what I did in the past. We both know that."

"That's not true," Raphael interrupted. Baxter's eyes widened in his shock. "Yeah, I really believed that was true, but I wanted to forgive you. I wanted to more and more whenever you tried to help us, especially when you nearly died for the city or even for me. But I . . . I just couldn't let go of what you did . . . until today."

Now Barney looked stunned. Baxter and Vincent exchanged a joyous gaze.

"You saved my . . . my brother," Raphael stammered. This was a new term for him too. But he liked it and he wanted to use it. "You saved him and you paid the price for it. And . . . you've finally paid the price as far as I'm concerned, too. Barney, I . . . I really do forgive you. It's in the past. You've changed. I've known that for a long time, but now I . . . I can finally accept it."

"I . . ." Barney slumped farther into the pillows. "I don't know what to say. . . . I believed this day would never come. That it _couldn't_ come. And now you're saying it has."

Raphael nodded. "Thank you, for saving Michelangelo."

"I . . . I'm glad I could," Barney said. "You . . . called him 'brother'. . . ."

"That's what he called me, when he was trying to get me to calm down and listen to reason," Raphael said. "I was so hopping mad, I was just seeing red and thinking how I was going to hurt you for betraying Michelangelo. And if I'd really done something to you . . . !"

"I'm sure you're right that you wouldn't have, Raphael," Baxter interjected.

"I want to believe that, but I just don't know," Raphael answered forlornly.

"I don't blame you for any such thoughts you might have had," Barney said. "I'm just . . . overwhelmed that you're putting this all behind you."

"So am I, to be honest," Raphael said. "I've been frustrated with myself for a long time because I couldn't do that."

"I would like to ask you something," Vincent said. "You say you feel he paid the price as far as you're concerned. Do you mean you're only forgiving him because you feel that he's suffered enough at long last?"

"No, I don't mean that," Raphael said, and he sounded awed. "I was afraid that was the only way I'd forgive him, but now I realize that Master Splinter was right. I just needed to feel that it was really okay to let everything go. And I guess Barney saving Michelangelo, especially when somebody was trying to tempt him back into crime, was what I needed to be sure that he really had changed for good. Maybe Master Splinter was also right that this was more about being able to trust than to forgive. All I know is that now I've forgiven him and I trust him both."

"I'm glad," said Vincent.

"You're welcome in the Lair any time, Barney," Raphael continued. "You too, Vincent." He looked to the doorway. "I'm going to let everyone else know you're awake. Oh gosh, how are you feeling, by the way?"

"Terrible," Barney said. "And yet . . . I'm not. Now I've actually been forgiven by everyone involved. I can bear the physical pain because of that."

Baxter beamed. "And you deserve it, Barney. You deserve it so very much."

xxxx

It wasn't long before everyone else had come to check on Barney as well-save, of course, for Michelangelo. They all had similar messages of gratitude, sincerely thanking Barney for saving their brother. Now that Michelangelo had started it, they all seemed to want to use the term.

Splinter's message was slightly different. "This isn't the first time you have tried to protect one or more of my sons," he said. "I thank you for every one of those times, and for the sacrifices you made each time."

Barney flushed, looking awkward now. "I did the right thing during all of those incidents. That doesn't require so much praise as though it's a momentous event for someone to do what they should."

"But we know that you have grown to truly love the Turtles," Splinter said. "You did not do it just to keep your conscience clear, but because you could not bear for any harm to come to them."

Barney looked away. "That's so preposterous after I hurt them in the past."

"It is not preposterous, but beautiful," said Splinter. "You are a true friend to my sons, just as Baxter is. And now every one of them knows this."

Barney stared off at the wall in disbelieving amazement. "I never intended to grow this fond of the Turtles. I would have tried to save Michelangelo even if that were not the case, but when it is . . . what has Michelangelo done to me?"

Baxter laughed softly. "Michelangelo has that effect on people. You become fond of him so easily because he's so kind and good . . . because he's willing to take a chance on you even after you've done wrong . . . because he sees the good that's there and helps you to see it too."

"It's not logical," Barney mumbled.

Vincent was happy. "You were both so lonely and sad for most of your lives. Now you have so many loved ones."

Baxter smiled at him. "So do you, Vincent," he replied.

"Yes," Vincent agreed. "I do. And that's strange to realize too. After being alone for 300 years, I wonder sometimes if I just finally lost my mind and started imagining people to be with. And yet I know that isn't true. If I had done that, I never would have imagined the disasters that have happened to each of us. It's all real, as incredible as it is to comprehend."

"And you will never be alone again, Vincent," Baxter vowed. "None of us will."

Barney still looked like he had a hard time comprehending that. But, he knew, it likely was true. They had each other as well as their friends. There would of course still be moments of solitude and probably sometimes loneliness, but it wouldn't last. There were many beings to fill it.

xxxx

It was late that night when Michelangelo finally began to revive. "Barney?" he mumbled as he stirred. "Is Barney alright?"

"Michelangelo!" April said in delight. "We've been so worried!"

"Worried?" Michelangelo repeated.

"Yes," said Splinter. "You have not been well."

"What about Barney?" Michelangelo insisted.

"Barney's fine, Michelangelo," Leonardo smiled. "But what about you?"

"Me? I'm gnarly . . . I guess. . . ." Still weak and woozy, Michelangelo tried to get off the bed. "Where's Barney?"

"He's in his room," Raphael exclaimed, reaching to push Michelangelo back into the bed. "You're not strong enough to get up yet!"

"I'll get him," Leonardo said. "He wanted to know the minute you woke up."

Michelangelo let Raphael push him back into the bed. "You . . . you're not mad at him anymore?" he demanded.

Raphael felt his heart twist. "No, Michelangelo, I'm not mad at him. You were right-he saved your life."

"Did he get hurt?" Michelangelo worried.

"McFingers conked him over the head and beat him with the gun, yeah," Raphael said. "But he's bouncing back from that."

For the first time. Michelangelo really took in the surroundings. "We're at his house," he said in surprise.

"Yes," Splinter nodded.

Leonardo returned, bringing Donatello, Barney, Baxter, and Vincent with him. Baxter beamed to see Michelangelo conscious. "Michelangelo, you're awake!" he exclaimed, hurrying into the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Kinda weak still, I guess," Michelangelo mumbled. "But I'm gonna be just fine." He looked to Barney. "Thanks to you, Bud."

Barney relaxed, both relieved and happy to see him awake and talking. "I'm glad I could do something," he said. "I _am_ sorry you were hurt in the fall."

"That's nothing," Michelangelo said. "Just a couple of bruises."

Raphael shifted. "Michelangelo . . . when you were trying to get me to listen to reason, you called me 'brother,'" he said.

"Well, sure," Michelangelo said. "You know, I've been watching Baxter and Barney adopting Vincent as their brother and how they're all totally into it and I thought, Hey, we're all adopted brothers even if we're not actually related. We should be saying 'brother' too."

Barney gawked. " _We_ were your inspiration for that?!"

Baxter and Vincent looked surprised as well.

"Yeah," Michelangelo said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

"That's really sweet, Michelangelo," April said.

Splinter smiled. "We all learn from each other. Even those who for years believed they did not know how to be a family knew more about it than they thought. And now they have taught something valuable to us."

Raphael nodded. Awkward again, he rubbed the back of his neck as he looked to Michelangelo. "And . . . you should know, Michelangelo, that I've forgiven Barney."

Michelangelo's eyes went wide. "For real?!"

"Yeah," Raphael confirmed. "For real. We're all a family now, just like you wanted."

A huge smile spread across Michelangelo's features. He clearly wanted to cheer, but he was still too weak for that. His eyes, however, were perfectly capable of cheering. They sparkled with pure joy. "Totally gnarly!" he proclaimed.

Baxter had to laugh.

"Yep," said Raphael, even as he smiled too. "That's Michelangelo for you."

xxxx

Michelangelo and Barney both still needed to rest, so the others took turns watching over them to allow everyone some sleep throughout the night. Deep into the early hours, Raphael had chosen to keep a vigil over Michelangelo.

"Raphael?" he heard the other Turtle mumble after a while.

Raphael promptly snapped to attention. "What is it, Michelangelo?" he asked.

"I'm, like, way glad that you finally managed to forgive Barney," Michelangelo said.

"I just feel bad I couldn't do it before," Raphael said in chagrin. "Now you're hurt and Barney's hurt and what if Barney hadn't woke up?"

"Hey, there's no point rewinding the past," Michelangelo said in surprised dismay. "We're okay, Raphael. Everything's gnarly."

"But . . . if Barney had died, wouldn't you have always been on the rocks with me or something?" Raphael worried.

"Like, why?" Michelangelo frowned. "You were only mad 'cause of how Barney hurt us in the past. You just felt protective. No matter how frustrated I got with the whole situation, I knew that was the reason. I was disappointed, sure, but not mad. It was kind of bodacious to have someone care so much."

"You really mean that," Raphael said in awe.

"Of course, Dude," Michelangelo said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You would," Raphael said. "Don't mind me; I'm just thinking aloud."

"Honestly, Raphael, I think that if Barney had died, you never would have got over it," Michelangelo said. "Even though it was understandable that you were mad and all."

Raphael looked down and nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I think you're right."

"But he's okay, so we don't have to think about it!" Michelangelo insisted. "Let's just think about how righteous it's gonna be from now on." He smiled, sinking into the pillow. "All of us together, finally a family."

Raphael had to smile a bit. "You just get some more sleep," he said gruffly. "You've already talked way more than you probably should have."

"Yeah, I know," Michelangelo mumbled. He was asleep again in the next moment.

His words, however, lingered on in the stillness and Raphael pondered on them. He stared off in the distance, lost in thought, before the unpleasantness of his imaginings brought him back to the present and he smiled down at Michelangelo. He was right; there was still a chance to set things right and that was what should be focused on. It was a wonderful thing to realize.

 _Things are going to be different from now on,_ he said to himself. _In a good way._

xxxx

Barney, too, had roused up again during the night. He found Vincent dozing next to the bed, but the moment Barney stirred, he was awake again. "Barney! Are you feeling any better?"

"Some," Barney acknowledged. "Some more sleep will be nice. Did Baxter go to bed?"

"I finally convinced him to," Vincent said. "I said I'd stay here with you through the night."

"I'm sorry I put you both to such worry," Barney said. "I didn't intend to get hit over the head by . . . whatever that was."

"The gun," Vincent said helpfully.

Barney gave a vague nod of acknowledgement. "I knew Pinky McFingers was bound to do something to retaliate once I sent his ransom out the door. I just wasn't expecting his retaliation to be the perfect punishment for me." He sighed.

"Just because you hit Baxter in a fit of blind rage doesn't mean you should have to experience what it feels like," Vincent said. "Anyway, you were unconscious far longer than Baxter."

"I know," Barney said. "And you and Baxter and the others were the ones who suffered for it."

"You suffer for it when you're awake," Vincent pointed out.

Barney shrugged. ". . . It's so strange to realize how deeply Raphael was affected by this," he said quietly. "I've gotten used to him either not being affected or not showing that he is."

"This was the first time you were hurt for any extended period of time since you came back alive from the collapse of the Dansing Building," Vincent said. "You weren't hurt when you protected Michelangelo from me. And whatever your injuries were when Rocksteady threw you off the balcony, the worst ones were quickly healed with that machine. Maybe that made it a little harder for Raphael to really continue processing what could have been. He was very upset when you first fell." He shuddered. "Anyway, this time there wasn't a quick fix and no way to get around it. He had to deal with it."

"I suppose that makes sense," Barney grunted.

"More than that, though, he realized just how badly his lingering distrust of you was affecting him," Vincent said. "When he realized he'd gotten so enraged and you were guiltless this time, he was horrified. Maybe that more than anything else is what finally reached him."

"Maybe we'll never know exactly," Barney said. "But that's alright. It's strange for a neuropsychologist, perhaps, but I don't feel I need this analyzed."

Vincent smiled a bit. "That said, I was kind of surprised by how worried he was too," he said. "But it was nice."

"It was," Barney said softly. "For him to have finally forgiven me too, I feel . . . free."

"Will you ever forgive yourself, Buddy?" Vincent asked.

"I doubt it," Barney said. "At least, not the me of the past. I've accepted that I'm not that person anymore. I can go forward and continue trying to figure out who the me of the present is. I think maybe, I . . . actually like that person."

Vincent smiled. "I love that person," he said. "So does Baxter."

Barney settled under the covers. "You loved the me of the past too, which will never not be amazing to me." His eyes started to close. "Thank you, Vincent."

"I said you don't have to thank us for caring, Buddy," Vincent said. He laid a gentle hand on Barney's shoulder, feeling the muscles relax as his brother slipped back to sleep.

xxxx

By morning, Michelangelo was feeling well enough to be up for a while. And ironically, by morning Donatello had figured out how to set the gun in reverse.

"We'll be able to restore all the energy Pinky McFingers stole from those businesses," Donatello said, pleased, as he set the gun on the island on Barney's kitchen.

"Well, how about we don't return McFingers' and his goons' energy?" Raphael said dryly. "Let them get it back the hard way, like Michelangelo had to do?"

"Sounds fair to me," Michelangelo said.

"And since they're not mutant turtles, it will probably take them longer to recover," Barney remarked.

"Serves them right," Raphael sneered.

Vincent smirked. "They can recover behind bars, where they belong."

"We need to think about where he got this gun too," Baxter worried. "It's alien technology. . . . What if he allied with Krang and Shredder?"

"That . . . actually makes sense," Barney frowned. "McFingers would get the expensive equipment in the places he robbed, while Krang would get the energy. And it would explain why he knew that Vincent and I are brothers; Shredder probably told him."

"We must be very vigilant," Splinter said. "Krang and Shredder are apparently attempting to forge new alliances in their quest for evil."

"We will be, Master Splinter," Leonardo said. "And meanwhile, we're entering a new chapter of our lives." He smiled. "Finally, we're all united."

They all looked at each other in wonder and awe. Leonardo was right.

"Irma wasn't here for any of this, but she was here, like, in spirit," Michelangelo said. "Now all we've gotta do is get Vernon onboard and we'll be all set!"

"Good luck with that," Raphael said, shaking his head.

"Vincent and I are here," Barney said. "To accomplish that, especially with me, anything else is easily possible."

Baxter smiled. "You're learning," he said fondly.

"Righteous!" Michelangelo grinned.

"It is good that we are all here," Splinter said, looking around the island at each of his sons and their dear friends. "My heart is full."

"I think we can all resonate with that," Michelangelo chirped. "But now how about getting our stomachs full too?"

Baxter laughed. "I'll make breakfast." He started to get up.

"I'll help, Pal," Vincent offered.

"Heck, me too," said Raphael.

Splinter leaned back to watch, smiling at the scene of camaraderie before them. Barney, watching as well, seemed awestruck.

"Like, what's up, Barney?" Michelangelo asked.

Barney slowly shook his head. "It's so incredible, I can still hardly believe it. Raphael has forgiven me. What he said would never happen has happened. And he's feeling better towards Vincent too."

"Well, sure, Dude," Michelangelo said, draping an arm on Barney's shoulder.

Barney started at the physical contact. "You're not surprised?"

"Raphael's a good guy," Michelangelo proclaimed. "I always wanted to believe this would happen someday. After all, he was upset about what you did to me. I guess now he knows absolutely that I'm, like, not in any danger from you. That was the final thing he needed to be able to heal."

"Yes, that's what he said," Barney nodded.

"And hey, Barney . . ." Michelangelo sobered, looking into the red-haired scientist's eyes. "I didn't have a chance to thank you yet. So . . . thanks. Big time."

Barney looked back. "I'm glad I was able to help you, Michelangelo. But I'm angry that Pinky McFingers tried to use you to force my hand."

"I'm not too happy about that either," Michelangelo admitted. "But I was never worried about me, just you."

Barney raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that's typical coming from you, but why?"

"Like, because I knew you'd do anything you could to protect me," Michelangelo said. "And I was afraid that might extend to helping Pinky."

"I knew I couldn't trust him to keep you alive even if I agreed," Barney said. "I wanted a solution that wouldn't compromise you . . . or me." A thoughtful look came into his eyes. "I wanted to . . . be true to myself."

Both Baxter and Vincent heard him and looked over, smiling.

Without quite realizing it, Barney was smiling as well. "Maybe I'm finally starting to realize what that entails," he mused. "Being true to myself."

"You are, Barney," said Baxter.

"Naturally," Vincent agreed.

"So, like, what does it entail?" Michelangelo asked, looking curious.

Barney started to get up from the counter, still looking thoughtful. "I'm . . . a good person," he said. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I was always a good person. But for so much of my life, I tried to deny it. I denied it so much and did so many bad things that I started to believe I truly was bad. To be true to myself, I have to believe and accept that I'm good and act accordingly. There will probably still be days when that's hard. But I've had loved ones who believed in me when I absolutely couldn't believe in myself. Without them, I know I never could have started to feel differently."

Baxter smiled more, completely moved. "And we are so very proud of you, Barney," he said.

"You're finally starting to see yourself the way we see you," Vincent said.

"And I'm still amazed that you saw the good even under all of my rotten moods and actions," Barney said.

"That's what genuine love is," Baxter said. "It sees the whole person, good and bad."

"And it sees the person's potential, whether they see it or not," Vincent added.

"You certainly saw mine," Barney said.

"And now all of us see it too," said Leonardo.

Baxter sneaked a look at Michelangelo. He was positively beaming. He had what he had longed for so long now. It had been one of Baxter's longings as well. For both of them, they felt very fulfilled and happy. And judging from everyone else in the room, they felt the same.

"Here's to family," Michelangelo declared.

"Hear hear," chorused several in the room.

Raphael, perhaps, was the loudest.


End file.
